Paradise
by Planetfall
Summary: Henry doesn't go to Emma's apartment on her 28th birthday, which causes her to miss out on discovering her family, breaking the curse and falling in love with Regina Mills. However, destiny brings people together in unusual ways. So, what will happen when Emma and Regina find themselves stranded in a mysterious land with no memory of how they got there?
1. Environs

Chapter 1: Environs

_The storm roared into Neptune Valley. Rainfall the colour of rosewater flooded hair and clothing; Emma laughed and let go of Regina's hand, running into the damp field ahead. She flung her arms up into the downpour while Regina stood quiescently, aback._

_"__I love you!" Emma called from a distance, the declaration entangled with the sonorous beat of rain._

_Regina looked up, mystified._

_"__I can't hear you!"_

_They could barely see each other through the green haze, but somehow it was still calming. Emma cupped her hands against her mouth._

_"__Regina!"_

_Being continually unsuccessful, she ran back over through watery grass and threw her arms around the woman. Regina giggled against the wet and leaned into the soothing wash of Emma's voice, which intoned once again…_

_"__I love you. You are the universe."_

* * *

><p>It began in midsummer, when the valley grew an aquatic green no longer discoloured by wild, sugary snow. That fresh, clean ivory had left the mountain-caps by then, and below the cliffs, by the blooming honeysuckles and yellow saplings emerged the caves from beneath winter's coat. Those dark, fructified sanctuaries were waterlogged and thronged with insects, humming in the heat. Emma Swan awoke and pressed her palms into the damp rock.<p>

"What the hell?"

She pushed herself off the moss, stumbling to a gawky stance. All that was surrounding her was dim; only the fine flickers of wax on stone and a distant hole of light glittered into the grotto – the opening. She immediately realised her clothes were soaked. The woman wore light jeans and a white shirt with long sleeves that stuck to her skin like honey. Hands were bruised with blue. Everything ached.

"…Where am I?"

As her eyes adjusted, Emma saw she was at the edge of a black pond that filled the centre of the cave. A wave of hysteria struck her – this was not New York.

Was it a dream? One of those, psychological mirages, caused by some sickly malady?

"That's it," she grumbled, her hair becoming drenched by the water-droplets falling from the rock above. Like a tempest, Emma Swan stormed towards the bright opening. Her muscles were trembling and sore. Yet just before she reached the warmth of the sun, she slipped into a mossy pool and a shoe went flying off into the pond.

"Really?" Emma moaned as she retrieved her balance once again.

The pond was far too dark for the woman to go any closer. So, she stepped carefully outside the cave, and the sun flooded her skin with heat. She saw nothing other than the valley. Trudging with one-foot-in-shoe and one-foot-out-of-shoe made her shoulders slant awkwardly as she made her way further into the green. The dampness had subsided, and Emma was suddenly inside walls of grass that rose up taller than her own height.

"Am I on drugs?" she spat out. "No…stop talking to yourself, Swan."

Her body exhausted, Emma fell back into the meadow and gazed at the sky. Lime straws of grass were stuck to her still-damp hair and clothing. She tried to pinch herself and wake up. Nothing worked.

"Have I died and gone somewhere?" she finally pondered. But it was pure Sisyphean. It was uncomfortable being alone in that field, away from the security of her city-apartment. Existing in unfamiliar places only reminded her of childhood.

And it was there; at that exact moment the elusive sun left the woman vulnerable, she was filled with fear. Checking her pockets – anything for clues – realizing she didn't have her phone. Sore. Irritated. Hungry.

_Great_, she thought. _I'm in purgatory_.

* * *

><p>Time passed sluggishly while Emma's instincts ran rampant. Night eventually fell into the air and a cool, placid sensation tranquilized her skin. Still engulfed by monstrous grass and the weight of fear, she tried relentlessly to fall asleep. The attempts failed, again and again.<p>

Just as all hope of any memory-recall was draining, the panorama of sky above Emma was illuminated. A cacophony of stars, their zealous sparks flashing against the field – gargantuan, vacant planets circling the heavens – the residue of sunset frolicking in dusty pigments of red and orange – all seemed so impossibly close to her. She fixated her eyes on that lively sky, suddenly feeling wide-awake, and experiencing, as she lay on the green floor of the universe, a cosmic comfort.

_All points lead to infinity._

"Excuse me… what is the name of this land?"

Emma's intergalactic vision was bombarded by an abrupt appearance of an upside-down face above, which was, unlike her own, physically untouched by the perils of the strange land. She was still dazed and feeling slightly delusional when the figure appeared.

"Excuse me!" it exclaimed. Emma's body jolted at the volume of the voice, after hearing nothing but silence for hours. In trying to answer, she stumbled on her words.

"I… I don't–"

In actuality, Emma didn't exactly know what to reply with. The mysterious woman sat down next to her and let out a deep sigh. Emma slowly raised herself off the earth until their eyes met. She saw the same fear she had experienced earlier on in the face across from her.

"Hi. I'm Emma Swan. And I have no idea what this place is called."

The woman facing her introduced herself as Regina Mills. They weakly shook hands, and then Emma briefly explained to her what had happened in the cave. The scent was in the humid air of the thing they both came to realize, but were too afraid to admit: they were lost.

"Great," Regina mumbled under her breath, "so much for my plan".

"Please, enlighten me," Emma retorted.

"Forget it. I'll have to find another way home."

"Seriously?"

Regina nodded firmly.

"You seem like you've been awfully pragmatic for someone who doesn't know where the hell they are," Emma stated, confused, and slightly in awe, but immediately regretting her attempt at humour when Regina suddenly sunk into solemnity.

"Well, I've been here, away from home, for days now. Days – three I've counted – without my son."

Emma gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. Where's home?"

"Storybrooke, Maine."

"I'm from New York."

"Do people only wear one shoe in New York?"

"No…it just fell…off my foot."

Small talk became awkward in such a bizarre situation. Emma couldn't help herself but burst into a fit of laughter.

"Excuse me, what are you finding so funny?"

Emma instantly replied, giggling uncontrollably. "This is a dream, though. You're not really here. Wow, you almost had me."

Regina just groaned against the midnight dusk. Unlike her newfound companion, she knew about travelling between worlds. In fact, she could do it easily herself, with the right magic. However, to get back to Storybrooke, it would require actually knowing where she was in the first place. It would be impossible to go somewhere without initially knowing where you were coming from.

Emma had fallen back onto the grass, still chuckling. She snatched Regina's hand and stroked it. "This isn't real," she sniggered. The other woman quickly pulled it back and gave out another exasperated moan. When Emma grabbed it again, this time more forcefully and brought it to her mouth – "Tell me the truth…is this a sex dream?" – Regina pushed her backwards and stood up.

"That's it. I don't care who you are, Emma. You're not helping me. I'm going back."

At once, Emma jumped to her feet.

"Look, I'm really sorry…and stunned…really stunned. If you're going back to Storybrooke, take me with you. At least I know where Maine is on the map."

"No, I'm going back to where I've been staying. There's an abandoned house by the edge of the forest." Regina pointed over to a flock of densely packed trees. "I've been looking for the owners, or anyone for that matter, during these past days. But you're not welcome if you're going to be lewd."

The sky was darkening into a deep black, which reflected in stark shimmers off the valley. Emma smiled, still half-convinced she was dreaming, perhaps lucid dreaming, perhaps imagining it all, yet also half-certain that this woman wasn't kidding around.

She held out one hand to Regina. "Okay. I accept your offer."

Regina smirked. "You can forget holding hands, if that's what you're trying to do here."

Emma pointed up at the sky, still ablaze with gyrating stars. "But it's dark!"

Regina simply flipped around and began to make her way through the long grass towards the forest. Emma followed, the enlivening flavour of nature fresh on her taste buds. A light breeze streaked through her blonde hair as she walked. And little did she know what she was walking into.

* * *

><p>When Emma and Regina stepped inside, the silent whispers of trees in the night deceased. The house was a large cabin, fully stocked with the remains – kitchen items, clothing, and more – of the unknown owners. It was clear that Regina had turned the place upside-down looking for clues about who or where they were, as furniture was toppled over in every corner of the living room.<p>

"You've really made yourself at home," Emma vocalized.

"Not really. This isn't home."

Regina trudged through the mess and slumped onto a couch. She could have simply used her magic to instantly clean the place up, but she thought it would intimidate Emma too much…especially at this point. It would be foolish to scare off the only person who could help her in this circumstance, although she was still apprehensive about whether Emma had anything substantial to offer. The blonde paced back and forth by the doorway. The air was so still and the faint sound of crickets chirping resonated off the windowpanes.

"Alright. I'll just find somewhere to sleep in this chaos here–"

"Don't bother," Regina interrupted. "I don't think it's possible."

Emma paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I haven't been able to sleep for days now. Something…" – Regina placed her fingertips to her temples – "Something strange is going on. Nothing like I've ever experienced."

Emma scrunched up her face and giggled. "Okay. You sound a little crazy. But whatever you say."

* * *

><p>Emma had left Regina to explore the upstairs of the cabin and had plummeted onto a bed in a room adorned with flowers and old paintings. An ancient scent wafted through the air as she closed her eyes and imagined New York. The city lights. Whirring traffic. It felt so distant now. And maybe Regina was right...maybe sleep was impossible here. So, after about an hour of tossing and turning, she begrudgingly plodded back downstairs.<p>

The greeting she heard: "Hello, dear."

"I couldn't sleep if my life depended on it," Emma blurted out.

"You'll get used to it. Soon you won't feel tired at all."

Outside the window-glass were faint specks of radiance. The stars were fading and a lethargic but potent morning was gradually approaching. Regina was still perched on the couch.

"I cleaned up."

Well, she half-cleaned-up. Magic was useful, but also dangerous, so she decided to only use it for trivialities. One wrong move and her magic could trap them in that strange place forever. Yet, truly, Regina was searching to normalize the abnormal – to find some sense of reason among depths of confusion.

Emma walked over and joined her on the couch. "What happens now?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Regina breathed quietly.

Emma placed a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder. "What's Storybrooke like?"

"It's…" Regina shuffled in her seat. "It's got a diverse range of people, but really, it's just your usual town. I'm the mayor."

"So who's gonna take your place while you're here?"

"Hopefully nobody. They're all awful…" Regina snapped. "Candidates. Awful candidates…for the job I mean."

"What about your son?"

"How old do you think I look? He's only twelve. He can't run a town."

"No," Emma laughed. "I mean, what's he like?"

Regina sighed. "I think that's enough questions for tonight, Ms Swan."

The sun was peaking behind an array of silver planets. Day was approaching and Emma realised that she had existed in this place far too long for it all to be a dream. She looked at the woman next to her and then out to the sky through the window, her emotions calming away at the wavelike motions of inky clouds. And Emma's previous enquiry was justified – what would happen now? She thought she was a survivor. She had been shuffled between foster homes all her life; she knew how to navigate unfamiliar places.

"I think we should go out," Emma suddenly uttered.

Regina's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Emma stood up, towering over the couch. "I think we should get out of here and go looking for some other people…or anything really. Neither of us is getting home if we stay here stagnant."

"Because you know so much about this place, after lying in the grass all day."

"Hey. You've barely been here long enough to act all entitled."

Regina was wearing a simple pantsuit; the contours of her dark hair were perfectly shaped and Emma began to think she was just a particularly stubborn woman who resisted physical and emotional discomfort at all costs. And she was right – for so long, Regina had been relying on her power among the people of Storybrooke to get her own way, forging her own ideals within the fabric of the town. She was never challenged, nor was she ever asked to diverge from her own plans. If it were anyone but Emma doing this, she would have thrown a fireball at him or her by now. But it was Emma, and she was genuinely concerned.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I agree, we should branch out."

"Great! There's no time like the present. It can be our own extra special adventure operation–"

"This is not an operation," Regina cut in.

"Secret agent mission?"

"No."

Emma groaned.

* * *

><p><em>And when the wind and winter harden, all the loveless land, it will whisper of the garden, you will understand.<em>

* * *

><p>They were bridging the gap between the forest and the caves, walking steadily through the rolling hills of the green valley, and Emma found herself regretting the exercise. By all means, she was in shape, but she dreaded physical activity without some form of entertainment. And unfortunately, this wasn't pacing a treadmill while catching up on TV episodes. This was a mission – no – not a 'mission', but a determination to solve the mystery that was this land. She looked over at Regina, who was surprisingly ahead, and called to her.<p>

"Hey!"

Regina stopped and turned around. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this," she divulged. "Wanna go back and watch a movie or something?"

"Ms Swan…"

"No really. This is too much. We're already set up for disappointment."

Regina slouched – "This was your idea; we're continuing" – and began walking again.

Silence fell upon them for a while longer, and Regina had gone a fair way before noticing that Emma had collapsed onto the grass. She became irritated at having to go back to collect her.

"Emma. Get up."

"Make me."

All at once, rain began to pour down onto the valley in unshakeable streams, the sky deepening into a rich grey. Immediately, glassy pellets of ice smacked onto their shoulders, while muffled thunder filled the soundscape.

Regina rolled her eyes, giving up. "How would you feel about going back to the cabin?"

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

><p>After making the exhausting journey back, during which Emma incessantly tried to crack jokes, the two women were sprawled out on the floor-rug in front of a fire Regina had magically lit without the blonde seeing. They knew venturing out into unknown territory in a random manner would only become dangerous day by day. A new plan was necessary, yet neither of them was bothered to come up with anything. Instead, Emma shared her adventurous stories of being a bail bondsperson until she felt rude for speaking about herself so much…nevertheless, the conversation soon changed.<p>

"Have you got anyone back home?" she questioned Regina, slightly dazed.

"Just Henry."

"How long have you and Henry been together?"

Regina furrowed her eyebrows. "Henry's my son."

"Oh!" Emma laughed. "I had no idea."

A mild tranquility came over them. The rug tickled at Emma's skin. She noticed that whenever Regina disclosed some portion of personal information, a look of regret was cast upon her face, like she had made a great mistake by speaking about her life.

Emma leapt up off the floor and scoured the kitchen area. There wasn't much, but she noticed a few bottles of wine perched on top of a high shelf, outstretching her arms to snatch one.

"I can't reach!" She hopped from foot to foot.

"I'm no taller than you, dear."

Emma grumbled and walked back over. "Maybe alcohol isn't the best idea anyway. I've got to be alert. In case this land is filled with monsters and dragons or something–"

Regina had lain back onto the rug, gazing at the ceiling. Her hand was on her stomach and faint tears stained her eyes.

"Are you crying?" Emma inquired as she leaned down.

"No."

The blonde lay down next to her on the floor and looked vacantly at the same view, shoulders almost brushing. The sands of time were beating slow and steady like the rhythmic pulses of their bodies in the balmy heat. Another night began to fall and they whispered to each other softly in the dim light.

"Emma…"

"Yes?"

"What would you do if this was the last place you would ever be?"

"Wow. I guess it's the 'if you were the last person on Earth' kind of thing. I don't know. But I guess I wouldn't be the last person. I'd have you."

"You wouldn't be upset?"

"I don't think so. Honestly Regina, when I first arrived here, I thought I had gone to Heaven or something. Turns out it was just a big farmland and an annoying woman who never appreciates my humour–"

Regina slapped her arm. "Do you still think this is a dream?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. Maybe I'm meant to be here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Regina countered, pushing herself off the rug to stand up, only to have her arm suddenly grabbed by Emma.

"What would you do? I mean… if this were the last place you'd ever be?"

Regina thought for a moment, somewhat looking out to an imaginary, indefinite distance. "I'd come to think this is a punishment for all I've done."


	2. Malacoda

Chapter 2: Malacoda

Bitter spring rain carried on until morning when sunrise the colour of honeydew engulfed misty air. The doors and windows of the cabin were left open and the musky scent of forest puffed into the living room in transient spills. Emma and Regina had detached from each other in separate rooms; each was left to their own tragic contemplations before another day hung lazy and idle in the sky. Sleep hadn't come yet and it deserted them, as they lay awake alone at night like nocturnal fatalists ready to give themselves over to the netherworld. Emma had never felt so sentient. Her mind was alive at the memory of her life before this exotic dream and of the conversation the night before.

_This isn't punishment._

_You don't know my past._

Regina's words were hazy and remote now. The women had entwined too much in the shades of that evening, and in the morning they were, like unraveled yarn, in tangled disarray. Rain subsided. Emma stretched out her arms across the bed where she had been sprawled for what felt like a century, her brain clouded with a million reveries. She turned her gaze to the window and was startled to see a white kitten balanced on its beam.

"Hello, little friend." She stood up and crept closer, afraid she might frighten it away. The feline had bright blue eyes and fluffy fur that almost covered its pupils. Emma reached out, and with one desperate snatch, bundled it up into her arms like a newborn. Surprisingly, the kitten was unfazed as she rushed it downstairs in happy leaps.

"Regina! Look what I found on the windowsill!"

The woman was lying meditatively, with her back upon the couch and her eyes closed. "Not now, I'm thinking."

"About what?" Emma prowled around her, grinning wildly.

"That's none of your concern," she gibed, eyelids still shut.

Without warning, Emma placed the kitten onto Regina's torso and laughed. "I think we should call it Cheeky."

"Emma!" Regina sat up rapidly and the animal jumped onto the rug. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sun flooded into the room. "Me and Cheeky are being…cheeky," she smiled. The kitten crawled around in circles, following its white tail, and finally settled down among the soft fur of the rug.

Regina sighed deeply. "Well, it looks like the cats are able to sleep."

Having reached far into the realms of both philosophy and pessimism the night before, Emma was wary about going any closer. Regina was palpably heart-broken by the absence of her son and she simply couldn't understand that. Well, maybe she could, yet she hardly wished to delve into the most melancholy moments of her past. Some junctures in life are far too saddening…

"Emma?"

"Yes?" She sprung back into reality.

"I'm sorry…about last night. I'm not trying to…" She cleared her throat. "I'm not trying to push you away. I'm just unhappy about this situation."

Emma gave her a look of reassurance. "It's okay, we all are. And by we, I mean: me, you and Cheeky."

"That isn't its name, Emma."

The blonde scrunched up her face. "Excuse me, the name has been chosen already–"

"I found a collar the other day." Regina stood up and slumped over to the kitchen counter where she pulled out a brown neckband from behind a tray. She threw it back to Emma, who reached out clumsily, fumbling it in her hands a few times before dropping it on the floor and toppling over the couch. "Jesus!" she bellowed.

"Idiot," Regina scoffed, hiding faint giggles under her breath. "Look at the band."

Emma grunted and turned over onto her back, legs crossed and read the name. Casper. "I don't like it."

"I suppose you're going to have to live with it."

"Don't tell me what to do," purred the blonde.

Regina joined her on the floor and snatched the collar, examining it closely in rotation. Emma watched her hands gently revolve, the enticing fluidity of slender fingers circling in elegant strokes. "You're good at this," she praised.

"Good at what, Emma?"

* * *

><p><em>The Valley was bathed in green.<em>

_"__Tell me you love me back."_

_Regina's head leant down into the mist while Emma's eager eyes waited._

_"__Say it, Regina."_

* * *

><p>A sequence of heavy footsteps resonated into the room. Emma looked up; a faint sun-shadow was making its way across the porch. She glanced at Regina in panic and grabbed her, pulling her up the stairs into the room where she had previously been resting and quickly closed the door. All became quiet and eerie.<p>

"Who the hell is that?"

"I don't know!" Regina wailed, only to have her words muffled by Emma's hands cupping her mouth. "Shh…"

Regina's breath whimpered as the hands were released. Both women were terrified. Emma never liked dealing with strange people, especially when defenseless. Regina, on the other hand, was hardly defenseless, although wasn't yet comfortable disclosing to Emma that she may wield magic if necessary. There was an awkward and humid air in the bedroom. Boots stomped downstairs and then came the sound of something being thrown across the room.

"Oh no…Cheeky is down there."

"You're worried about the cat?"

"It has a name."

"Emma!"

"Okay…" She creaked open the door. The view wasn't very expansive but a short man came into sight, wearing leafy camouflage gear and a wide-brimmed hat that hid his face. A sizeable net of fish sunk into the floor alongside other round sacks of goods.

"What do you see?" Regina questioned.

"There's a man…and it looks like…he's petting Cheeky."

"What else?"

"That's it. He must be the owner of this abandoned house." Emma looked back and rolled her eyes.

Regina pouted. "Let me deal with it." The other woman gazed at her worriedly, but she insisted on going down there herself.

* * *

><p>After staying stagnant on the stairs for what seemed like an hour, Regina edged towards the living room.<p>

"Hello! All welcome here!" was the exclamation that emanated from the kitchen.

"Hello?" she inquired, stepping further into the main area. The man was portly and stout, with a thin mahogany beard and eyes the colour of crystal. His clothes were damp and hung off his limbs, and Regina saw that his hands were covered in silver rings as a welcoming wave shot up and oscillated back and forth in the air.

"Who might you be?" he asked as she inched closer, the woman now unafraid to use dark magic on the dwarfish man while Emma was upstairs.

"I could ask you the same question," she countered sternly, keeping firm and ready to fight.

"I asked you first!" retorted the man, which only incited Regina to come even closer and tower over him.

"Tell me what realm this is right now," she insisted. "Or I'll–"

"Hey, lady, this isn't a realm," he interrupted.

Regina took a glimpse at the net of fish spread across the floor. "One: That's disgusting. Two: Tell me the name of this place if you want to keep your life."

The man cowered. "Alright, no need to get violent. The name of this place–"

His explanation was suspended by the echoing shrieks of Emma Swan running down the stairs waving a candelabrum in the air. She pounded through the living room and hurdled blunderingly over the couch, pointing the metal object in the man's direction.

"Emma!" shrilled Regina, seizing it off her and shoving her down onto the couch behind.

The blonde frowned until the muscles in her face hurt.

"You were saying?" she continued, a vicious expression still fixed motionlessly.

"As I was saying… the name of this place depends on where you are inside it. We're in the Sunbelt right now. If you look at it that way."

The man was panicked. However, Regina was thinking fantastic, now she was able to distinguish where she was and thus transport herself back home to Storybrooke. She couldn't bear another second without Henry by her side. In the absence of his mother for these past few days, she assumed he would be spending time with that god-forsaken Mary Margaret who would do just about anything to scoop him up out of danger. As his schoolteacher, she was always naturally inclined to lend a helping hand, yet it was always unwanted.

"The Sunbelt, in which realm? Ah…I mean which country?" she interrogated further, while Emma listened confusedly.

"Listen, lady, at least let me change my clothes…I'm soaked. Been out gathering food all day. Fishing. Visited the farm too."

Regina nodded and let the man disappear into the hallway.

"Regina, what's going on?" Emma whispered from the couch. Regina couldn't bear to look at her. She had already immediately clung to the tangible glimmer of hope that meant she could go home and pale tears began to brush against her eyelashes. And she didn't care at that moment that Emma wanted to go home too. All she saw was Henry.

"Regina," Emma repeated. "Regina!"

The brunette turned around swiftly to face her. "Emma, don't."

"Don't what? Don't get in on the plan? Don't figure out where the hell we are? Regina…"

"Don't irritate me. That's what."

* * *

><p>Regina had gone outside, the reason behind her sudden change in mood unbeknownst to Emma. Emma had contemplated it over and over – the woman had more or less opened up to her the night before, but perhaps only for assistance in getting out of whatever the Sunbelt was. Emma wanted that too; at least, she continually convinced herself she did. Regina was out there, among the green radiance of the day, basking in the fact that she had some leverage in the situation and hence cared little for those around her. The two were separated again, alone with rampant thoughts. Solitude was becoming a burden. Emma trudged through the hallway, the entire cabin so quiet you could hear a pin drop. No sound of the man. She checked all the rooms, even upstairs and out on the porch.<p>

Regina was resting on a log, looking up at the sky through verdurous canopy, dodging flying insects.

"He's gone." Emma emerged behind her.

"What?"

"I can't find him anywhere. He just left his stuff and took off."

Regina groaned and stormed back inside the cabin, leaving Emma dawdling by the trees.

"He's gone!" she yelled once she was in the living room.

"I…just said that," mumbled Emma, pacing back and forth near the door.

Regina simply groaned some more and marched up to the bedroom like an immature child. Emma fell onto the couch exasperated, but then had an idea.

The key to magic is self-control of the mind, and Regina had it mastered. She sat cross-legged atop the bed with her eyes closed, picturing Storybrooke and Henry, as well as the trajectory from the Sunbelt to Maine all at once. It was a tricky endeavor, yet she had encountered many a difficulty in her past. She was an expert at imagining herself elsewhere; since her childhood, she had dreamed she could live in a place where there ceased to exist any parental disturbance or daughterly obligation, where her mind could flourish like the wind through the pines, where love was natural and everywhere, in the earth, in the sky…yet she was thinking of too much and too little at the same time, and couldn't fix her thoughts on Storybrooke without becoming upset again, which ultimately impeded her magical ability. However, she refused to break down.

"Get up." Emma lingered in the doorway.

"Please leave me alone."

"We're going on a trip! Come on, the little man has left all his travelling supplies here, everything we need. Food, water, clothing, even hunting gear and heaps more. I'll carry it all. You need to get up." Emma tugged at Regina's arm. She was eager to get out of there. They were rotting away in that cabin, becoming lonelier and more solemn by the minute.

"And where exactly would we be going?" Regina raised her eyebrows.

"To paradise," Emma said, eyes sparkling.

"Emma…"

"Fine, we're just going to go through the forest. Hopefully find some answers. I'm good at that. It's what I do."

Regina gave in to a faint smile. "Yet you haven't been able to find anything yet, Detective Swan."

"…Finding answers involves exploring possibilities, Mayor Mills."

Emma smirked. Regina had, in that moment, agreed to do things the hard way – a method she rarely used in the past. Not even she herself knew why adventuring through the woods with Emma Swan would be more productive than concocting a spell and transporting herself back to Storybrooke. Yet, behind her self-confidence was the truth: self-awareness of location couldn't come from a name, especially if they were somehow cursed to the Sunbelt. For truly, what's in a name? Regina didn't know where the land was at all, and the unknown was becoming increasingly frightening.

* * *

><p>"I've watched a lot of survival shows," assured Emma as she walked out the front door, Regina behind, rolling her eyes.<p>

"Wait!" the blonde shouted, halting abruptly, Regina slamming into the back of her. "What about Cheeky?"

"Forget it, Swan."

Emma frowned and could only hope that the mysterious man they met earlier would come and take care of the kitten. And he would, but she didn't know that. All she could do was believe it would happen.

As they made their way deeper into the heart of darkness that was the lush forest, Emma decided to impart some significant knowledge onto Regina, who almost always made her feel intellectually inferior.

"You know, a word of advice: this could resort to cannibalism."

"Don't be so revolting, Emma."

They ambled steadily through dense vegetation. The heat was ebbing and gave rise to a bluish tinge in the sky, slightly darkened by hues of red and orange.

"I'm just saying…no promises."

"How about you make a promise to actually help? Or a promise to stop pretending you're a survival expert?"

"Oh, but I am." Emma was beaming, but Regina couldn't see her face.

"Tell me."

"Well, Mrs Mills, I did scouts once, so I know how to navigate, somewhat. I know how to track people down; I do it for a living, you know. I've been to a lot of places in my life, maybe not places like this…but places, and that counts."

"Very well, however please refrain from using the title Mrs, when it is unfortunately inaccurate."

Emma stopped in her tracks. "You're not married?"

"No, I'm not married Emma. May we please keep walking?" She began to feel rather embarrassed.

"Sure." Emma turned back around and continued to trudge through the leaves. "Well…where's Henry's father?"

Silence fell over them for a moment too long, Emma regretting the question. "Sorry if I'm being intrusive."

"It's fine. Henry, he's actually adopted. So to answer you then, no, I don't know where his father is."

Emma couldn't help but feel content that despite being without his birth parents, Henry had a mother who loved him more than anything. That was all she wanted when she was an orphan; it was the one thing all children like that pined for. Her respect for Regina grew more and more knowing that she was responsible for this kind of upbringing – the kind that restores happy endings. Yet, it also made her sympathy for the woman evolve even further, as she was unable to fathom the pain Henry would experience if abandoned twice. Therefore, it was twice as important for Regina to get back to Storybrooke. Thick tears began to build up behind Emma's eyes as she once again realised she had continued the cycle of abandonment herself, but she held it all back. The past was the past, and they weren't living in the past.

"Emma!"

"Yeah?"

"Look at this." Regina pointed to a thick wood carving on the trunk of a tree; Emma read the words. _THE FOUNTAIN OF VENUS_. "What does it mean?"

"I don't know," Emma muttered, running her fingers over the rough bark. "Sounds poetic."

Regina placed her hands on her hips and furrowed her eyebrows. "Any other ideas, survival expert?"

"Do you have a phone on you?"

"Yes, let me just get it out. I'll call 911."

"Damn, it was worth a try. If only we could get a picture…"

"I think we're perfectly capable of remembering a simple phrase. Unless of course your memory can't sustain such tribulation, as you've already seemed to forget your promise to actually help."

Emma sighed.

They ventured through the forest in silence for a long while. The thin buzzing of insects and the crunching of leaves under their footsteps were the only sounds audible amongst the falling night. Darkness filled the sky again, and the looming impossibility of sleep was upon them like an itch. They were never tired, only had problems adjusting to the high level of brain activity, which sustained perpetually. It was as if the world held one day, one day with one possibility, and they were living it slowly.

Neither Emma nor Regina wished to speak the first words after their break of conversation. They hadn't found any clues and it was only when the space in front of them became so dim that they could barely make out the swaying figures of the trees that Regina silently placed a hand on Emma's shoulder from behind. Emma simply paused her stride and halted in the darkness.

"Would you like to set up the tent?" she asked.

"Would you?" Emma responded, spinning around to face her.

"You know I don't know how."

Emma took Regina's hand off her own shoulder and made her way onto an open space, which she made sure was unimpeded by sharp rocks and spidery undergrowth. The day was wasting away and soon it would be time to face the gloaming. Regina watched as Emma erected the large cloth shelter and pegged it to the earth, securing and fastening every zip and latch in sight. And she felt comfortable knowing that at least they would be protected from the strangeness of the unknown.

"You're good at this."

"Good at what?" Emma smiled, bending over to clasp the last seal.

Regina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know."

"No, I don't…" Emma finished setting up the shelter and walked over to Regina, who was leaning against a tree. The blonde was panting, and leant in close with one arm resting on the trunk.

"I want to hear you say it."

The air was sticky. Regina let out a long breath. "Okay. You're good at survival technique."

"Among other things," Emma chuckled as she turned away and went back to the tent, where she undid the opening.

"Funny, I can't seem to think of anything else," Regina retorted.

"You just don't know me well enough." Emma waved a hand, signaling for Regina to join her. She was still standing against the tree, slightly reserved and incredibly self-contained.

"Thank god for that."

"Are you coming or not?"

Regina looked up at the sky, which had turned a shadowy-blue, flooded with stars. They twinkled and moved across the airspace slowly, like glitter coruscating off black velvet. Emma watched her watch the night, intently, like there was nothing else in the world that mattered. Regina had never seen such a beautiful vision, and neither had Emma.

"I'll be right in."

Regina couldn't help but stand there and wonder where her modest excitement, but excitement nonetheless was coming from. As a young woman she was ripped of the opportunity to adventure out into the world and explore new things. Fated to become a Queen, the past gave her no chance to experience the excitement of not exactly knowing where she was or what she was doing, yet finding it invigorating regardless. Emma almost lived by this rule, and it made Regina somewhat fearful of not being on the same level as her. She was thinking far too much again…she thought of Henry…and then of Emma waiting inside the tent. For the first time in years, vulnerability was rising.

The inside of the tent was far larger than Regina had previously thought. Emma had set everything out perfectly. She sighed and entered, closing the entrance behind her.

"We won't be having any late night musings, alright?"

Emma turned around, slightly startled by her presence. "Yeah. Whatever you want."

Regina settled in; it was too hot for blankets but Emma had already wrapped herself in a cocoon of cloth. They simply looked around aimlessly for a while, unsure of how to spend the next hours of darkness.

Emma repeated the words in her head like a mantra. "The Fountain of Venus."


	3. Calypso

Chapter 3: Calypso

The forest was a glaucous labyrinth, the tent a small flower in its quiet kernel. Only the silky tones of water swashing down some remote stream were audible from the inside, the night's resonances smothered into hot mist. The women were beginning to sink into the pretence of slumber once again, imagining each other had much to think about while eyes were closed and meditations sprung in wild, lonely blooms.

Regina glanced over at Emma who was nestled in one corner and a delicate smile began to unfold across her lips. She was still becoming naturalised to the fact that she didn't have to be Ms Mills there – no longer were motherly, mayoral roles of essence – nor was it incumbent to be self-restrained. Freedom was cultivating in her palms. Emma didn't know who Storybrooke-Regina was. Emma wasn't judging her actions. The perfume of Mother Nature enveloped them in her chasmic mouth as the gentle crackling of life in the forest transpired, tranquilly, welcomingly.

The air in the tent was sultry like the sticky steam of the tropics, warming skin in caloric swells. Regina was still fully dressed while Emma had stripped down into what looked like a white singlet in the murky light. The blonde had entered her own little world by the corner, so Regina decided to rid herself of some layering. Sitting up lethargically, she stroked a hand through her hair. Emma didn't move, so she quickly slid her trousers off. She had been wearing a thin blouse that was previously tucked into a black belt; now, having been lengthened out, it covered her adequately. Nevertheless, their body figures could barely be made out in such darkness. It wasn't pitch-black – the sky was perfectly illuminated by a flower-field of stars and their faint glow seeped into the tent – but the women could hardly distinguish what each other were wearing. Regina tossed her pants over to the other side of the tent, where the bag of supplies was resting. But her aim failed her when they landed straight onto Emma's back. She froze.

"Woah." Emma jumped up onto her knees and held the item of clothing in the air. "Bit of a desperate move, Regina."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snarled, reaching out a hand to snatch them back.

Emma laughed sarcastically. "Not your traditional courting method, but I'll take it."

"It was an accident. I'm not trying to _woo_ you. It's just boiling in here, I can barely stand it."

Emma gave the pants over and lay back down in her spot. She turned onto her side, still half-draped in a blanket, and propped her head up with an elbow. "You're right. It's getting _really_ hot in here."

"I don't have time for games, Emma."

"You literally have all the time in the world."

Regina shifted back and forth uncomfortably. She began to unzip the tent in an effort to escape the situation, when Emma interrupted her abrupt action. "I'm sorry," she uttered. "I'll turn around and never speak to you again."

And Emma Swan did exactly that, shutting her mouth and curling back up into the corner where she was, in hibernation. Time was so lazy in the Sunbelt; Regina couldn't tell whether it had been a minute or an hour before she began to feel suffocated. She waited eagerly for the first signs of daylight, anything that could floodlight the forest trail, because it was, at that moment, too dangerous to venture forth into deep black. Breathing became heavy, for the moist air was intoxicating, and she couldn't stand it anymore. With one desperate bound, she darted out of the tent, into a sea of maple and moss, brisk air dancing along bare legs and feet. Leaves crunched against her soles and she immediately regretted leaving the shelter, however had no choice other than to avoid embarrassing herself in front of Emma once again. Dazed and unsteady, she fumbled her way onto a tree-stump, sitting on it with her head buried in her hands. All she could envisage was Henry…tucking him into bed at night…sitting around the fireplace…sending him off to school…

The high-pitched scraping sound of the tent's zip being pulled across its opening startled Regina. She swiftly pulled her forehead out of her palms, faint tears staining dark eyes. Emma emerged, silhouette barely visible, from the entrance and looked around. Regina could see golden hair whipping from side to side as Emma took quick glances around the environment in search of her companion.

"I'm over here, genius."

Emma finally looked in the right direction and began to trudge over to the tree-stump. She sighed and fell to her knees in front of Regina, silently gazing up at her with mellow eyes. Regina couldn't hide her tears then; Emma looked right through her, making her so fearful until she clasped an idle hand from her lap, clenching it with a force of concern.

"What do you need, Regina? Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you."

Regina could only shake her head and proceed to wipe away the swell of tears with her free hand.

"Everything here is fine." She sobbed and blinked away teardrops. "If Henry was here…if only it was Henry…Henry is everything–"

She stopped as Emma stretched upwards and reached for her other hand, pulling it away from her face. Emma didn't lose eye contact for a second, staring straight into her soul, intently, with purpose.

"Sounds like there's a river 'round here," she whispered. "We could go swimming."

"Emma! I already told you I'm not joking about."

"Regina…" Emma began again. The night suddenly became very still. "Look, I don't know what people do in Storybrooke, but I handle difficult situations with humour and with a positive attitude. It's how I navigate awkwardness. It's how I make friends. It's…" She cleared her throat. "…Regina, I know you miss your son, and I care deeply about that. But I also know it's not going to get us through this. Teamwork is, and the more we isolate ourselves, the more we can throw away our chance of getting home. I'm the kind of person that wants to get up and do things, rather than sit around lamenting, even if that lamenting is justified. I want this to work. I want to get home more than anything and I know you do too, so at least, at least we can halt the tears for that."

Regina calmed and let her hands soften into Emma's. Almost all her life she had been living in great despair. She was no stranger to sorrow; yet never did someone try and encourage her to keep going. Never had a person actually held her hand and said: _this will not last_. It gave her the smallest glint of hope.

They untangled their clasp. Emma's knees began to feel the rough prickles of the grass underneath, itching at her skin. The pulse of Regina's breath became deeper and gentler, moving like a light breeze on a hot night.

"Do you wanna go back inside the tent?" Emma asked.

"Thanks, but I'd rather just get some air out here."

"Okay." Emma stood up and walked over to a large rock, which she proceeded to roll over to where Regina was sitting. She sat herself down on it and rested her chin in her hand. "Would you like to tell me about Henry?"

"I didn't say I wanted company."

"Come on, every mother likes to show off her children to some degree."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "I suppose he is quite spectacular."

"Oh _really_?" Emma smiled at her.

"Yes," intoned the woman as she looked up at the sunless sky. "He's the most intuitive young man I've ever met. Always reading something. Always curious about something."

"What does he get curious about?"

Regina let a faint laugh leave her lips. "Well, everything really. He's in love with the world. Too bad he hasn't seen much of it."

"Why not?"

"Well…I'm protective, I suppose. But it's for his own good. I can't bear to leave his side even if it's just because I have to go to work or he has to go to school."

"Yeah," Emma smirked. "I know that much."

"Oh, but if you saw him." Regina continued to drift off into continuum, looking away remotely, like she could picture Henry in the distance. "He's just got the most beautiful smile. Sometimes he smiles so much it's comical."

Emma's eyes began to wander absently. Regina noticed and instantly cupped her hand against her mouth. "Oh. I apologise. I'm boring you to death."

Emma snapped back into reality. "No, no you're not. Sorry. I just became lost in my own mind for a second."

"How surprising…"

"He sounds great. Honestly."

Emma's peaceful disposition was soothing enough to put Regina's fanatical thoughts to rest. The woman was right – there wasn't any use in grieving something that may be rectified. She wanted to divert her attention away from her far-away son.

"What's life like back home?"

Emma pressed her lips together in thought. "I don't have much of a designated home. I actually travel a lot, especially for work. I lived in Boston for a while and didn't like it much. Moved to New York after that. Before, I was all over the country. I'm still thinking about moving again, though. I live too close to the city and sometimes it's a little much, you know what I mean?"

"Not really," Regina laughed.

"Have you always been in Storybrooke?"

Regina stopped for a second. She had almost forgotten just how much time had passed since the curse. _It had to be more than thirty years_, she thought. Sectors of time were difficult to distinguish when everything was preserved. Before that, it was ruling the Enchanted Forest. Regina suddenly felt like her life was extraordinarily short, despite it being remarkably long.

"Yes. I've always lived there. Unfortunately my view was limited to the small stretch of seaside we have by the town."

"The sea isn't so bad," Emma uttered.

"It's alright. I don't think much of it." Regina could still feel herself entrapped by the ocean walls. Storybrooke was a lonely place.

"Do you think the sea might be here? This could be an island," suggested Emma. "Shipwrecked castaways are big on TV."

"Unfortunately I cannot resolve that predicament. Besides, it wouldn't help us." Regina stood up abruptly, straightening out her shirt. "All we need to do is acquire a helping hand from whatever citizen of this _Sunbelt_ we can find so we may locate ourselves and subsequently get out of this hell."

Emma nodded in agreement. "Are we going back to the tent?"

Regina looked down at the grass-bed, leaves swimming among spikes of dark burgundy.

"It's fine. I'll stay out here if you want. I don't mind."

A moon previously unnoticed by the two women suddenly emerged from behind the canopy of a tall tree. Regina tossed her hands in the air and sighed – "I don't _want_ you to stay out here. There could be deadly animals lurking in the shrubs for all I know."

Emma grinned and rose from the rock upon which she had been sitting. She followed Regina to the tent where they assumed their positions once again, staying as far away as two humans could possibly be from one another within an enclosed space. It was much more dim in there than outside, yet the oncoming moon seemed so close that Emma could feel its welcoming light inside of her. A resounding tranquillity overcame her body as she slouched over the bag of supplies, her mind clear of any negative contemplation about the future. It almost worried her, for she was the kind of person who deliberated greatly over life-defining choices, who excessively made Plan B's, who continually made sure everyone around her was comfortable and taken care of. It was early on in her childhood when she gained this profound sense of responsibility for both herself and others; she had always wanted to seem well put-together to make up for the fact that she was broken.

"Regina."

The other woman groaned and turned around, having previously been facing the wall. "What?"

"What's your biggest fear?"

Regina wiped at her eyes. No immediate answer reached out to the tip of her tongue. Perhaps it was because she didn't have some great fear that loomed over her like a black cloud, or perhaps it was that she simply had too many of them to notice the following on a day-to-day basis.

"I'll have to postpone my answer on that one."

"No, tell me." Emma was perched upright, eagerness feeding off her eyes.

"I can't answer your question if I don't have an answer in the first place, Emma." Regina turned around in the other direction.

"You're just not telling me."

"Why do you care so much?" Regina muttered, her head buried in her arms.

Silence ensued for a while longer, ending the discussion. Emma's hands began to fidget, zealously awaiting the first light of sun. Another night had almost passed and fatigue hadn't even remotely affected her, the phantom desire to retreat into slumber drifting off into the distance. She looked over at Regina who was avoiding any conversation like the plague. God, Emma had never been awake for so long, and it did things to her thought patterns. Maybe it was increasing her intelligence; maybe it was killing it slowly. She began to wonder for the thousandth time why she had even woken up in the Sunbelt in the first place.

* * *

><p>It was morning. The fruity chirps of wild birds reverberated off the trees, vibrations dashing and darting along a soft breeze. The sun was mellow rather than strong and the sky was a pale green with white specks of cloud-matter and dew that sunk into the forest floor. Regina winced at the opening of the tent, which was unzipped and hanging out of place. She stroked her hands through her hair and proceeded to push herself off the ground, feeling sluggish and sensing the breeze on her bare legs. <em>Of course Emma decides to leave the entrance open<em>, she thought. She blinked a few times and inhaled sharply. _I should remember if she had left it open…_ Regina's eyes shot across the inside of the tent where Emma had been situated throughout the night. There was no sign of the blonde anywhere. She quickly dressed and circumnavigated the environs of the tent. _Perhaps Emma wandered off_. _But I would recall if she did_. She dreaded the thought that she may have indeed fallen asleep, although it was deemed impossible by the very nature of their initial predicament. Unless somehow another memory curse had struck her, which wouldn't be ideal yet would also be highly plausible in terms of magic. _Who is Emma anyway? Everything is not as it should seem_. Regina could only conclude, in terminology that was fit for the modern world that she had meandered off into a deep slumber. _Well, this isn't my dream, as one cannot dream within a dream_. Her mind was running rampant. She decided to go for a walk.

Regina didn't want to face the reality that something…or someone was playing a trick on her. It was about time that the intricacies of the dark curse were figured out by a person other than herself or Mr Gold, yet she hardly desired to open herself up to the possibility of it. She walked steadily through the trees, batting away insects and adjusting her eyes to the light, which seemed so unfamiliar. Vulnerability struck again. She couldn't help but be compelled by the possible force of evil that could be lurking around the forest, laughing at her every step. Though, she didn't know where she was going and the earth was becoming slippery and waterlogged. _That's it. The water._

She fixed her eyes through the speckled tree-trunks and there, down a steep hill, was indeed the river. Rough water gushed through mossy rocks and made its way downstream; Regina followed the coloured surge of blue over to where the waves became calm. All at once, a figure came into sight. It was Emma Swan, bathing in the cool springs.

Emma was completely unclothed. Her flaxen hair was drenched and stuck like honey to her back. Regina became almost paralysed in shock at the woman who was half-covered by the still water, half-nude in broad daylight. She frolicked in the inlet, massaging every inch of pearly skin with an erotic ease; like some ancient goddess she immersed herself in the pool and rose up again and again. And the dampness of Emma's body made Regina's insides capsize. But she quickly tried to suppress any temptation, like she always did. While she was busy freaking out over how to approach the situation – both wanting to consult the other woman about her memory loss and apparent sleep, while also wanting to keep her distance – Emma noticed her lurking behind the trees from afar.

"Regina!" she called.

Regina panicked and scrambled through the leaves in the other direction, only to turn back in effort to dodge embarrassment. She paced back and forth like she was meant to be looking for something, and at the second call of "Regina!" turned her gaze to the river where she pretended she had first seen Emma just then.

"Come down here! It's great!" Emma yelled. She was waving her arms like a maniac and splashing about. Perhaps the upkeep of hygiene was necessary for Emma, but Regina had magic. She barely needed to spend her time bathing in nature's pools – _unsanitary_, she thought. Emma wouldn't stop flailing about so she made her way to the edge of the river where the seating that the rocks gave served as a suitable resting place.

Emma began to come out of the water. "Don't," Regina vocalised, shutting her eyes and placing a hand up to stop her, even though she had already seen everything exposed from afar. "You should probably stay right there."

The blonde looked down at herself and laughed. "Ha! You're probably right." She submerged herself in the stream once again, allowing the pond to reach up high enough to cover her chest. "My intuition didn't fail me! I knew I'd find the river. Makes me think that the guy we met before…the abnormally small one…may have gone fishing upstream." Emma's face illuminated as she pointed towards the bend of the river.

"Emma…" Regina began. She didn't exactly know what words to use. _I fell asleep? I can't remember much of last night?_ Sounded like a drunken apology. It suddenly occurred to her that things in the Sunbelt were becoming far stranger than they had initially anticipated. All she could conjure up was: "You…you left the zip undone…to the tent."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows and tucked a piece of wet hair behind an ear. "Oh, sorry."

Cold sprays of water were sprinkling onto Regina's feet. The breeze subsided and mild air became still. "Emma…how long have you been here?"

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Umm – a while, I think. Sorry, I got a little carried away. Is everything alright?"

"It's fine. I just…what was I doing when you left?"

Emma tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. "You were ignoring me, which you had undoubtedly been doing all night since I dared to ask you about your fears. Wrong move, Swan." She giggled and splashed a stream of water at herself, only to cough and wobble in her stance.

"I wasn't ignoring you. I had fallen asleep."

Emma froze and brought a hand to her head. "You what?"

"I don't know for sure," she mumbled. "But just in the tent before, I felt like I had woken up. And I don't remember anything of the night past our conversation."

"Wow," Emma declared and turned around, back facing Regina, only to dive straight into the water and come up for air on the far side. "You're lucky!" she called, the words echoing off the rock.

"This is not a joke! I'm feeling quite uneasy about this!" Regina chanted back.

Emma barely heard her. She was simply jealous that Regina had been able to sleep while she lay awake all night talking to herself…then again, maybe it was better that Regina hadn't witnessed the ridiculous behaviour – she always bet she could fill a whole book with her late-night meditations – "_Confessions of an Insomniac_". Anyhow, Emma had surfaced from the water, across the river from Regina on the other side yet still in plain, naked sight. She didn't watch Regina's reaction as she seized her clothes and proceeded to get dressed by the dry land – thinking she was some 'free-spirited animal' – but really she just couldn't be bothered with all the sanitization. _They're naked in all the good survival shows. _She didn't need to be clothed at all, but she still wanted partly to respect Regina, who hardly knew what to do with herself on the other side of the river. She didn't want to make some snarky remark about Emma's bare skin yet she didn't want to run away either – both methods would make her look like a fool who couldn't handle another woman's body.

Emma had covered herself and walked back over to Regina, sitting herself down shoulder-to-shoulder with the woman on the rocks.

"You should really try it. The water's great."

"Thanks but I'm not interested." Regina was looking the other way.

"You really should."

"Emma…I am _not _interested."

Regina's mind was becoming restless. They were close enough for Emma's breath to be hot on her neck, and it was intoxicating to say the least.

"You know what, Regina? I'll go and grab the supplies – pack up the tent – get our stuff. It'll take me a little while but not too long, and you can go swimming while I'm gone."

"I already told you," she groaned. "I have no desire to drench myself for no reason."

"Just try it."

"No."

Emma stood up forcefully and began to plough up the hill, kicking her boots through the pale leaves. She stopped halfway, turned back around and silently mouthed '_Trust me'_. Before Regina could roll her eyes, Emma had disappeared into the faint green shadows of the trees.

Regina's body was buzzing on the inside and urged her to go forth to the water's edge. The weather was balmy and pleasant, and the fine droplets of white-water frothing up from the mossy stones nearby were still raining on her skin. She glanced behind her a few times, and a few times more, and then towards the river – scent of spring now like an aphrodisiac – and the carnal inhales and exhales of primal liberation were released when she stripped off her clothes, one by one.


	4. Rapture

Chapter 4: Rapture

_"__The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."_

* * *

><p>A rusty, brackish daylight gave out a lovely warm smell in the forest. Some strange beauty befell from the beastly trees and myrtle-green dew, the weather salty and pale, a fair welcome for mortals to sink into monstrous dreams like wild roses… Regina had taken her river-bath, tantamount to a spiritual resurrection and relapse into the same corporeality she had been hoping to half-accept: she was in the Sunbelt, whether she knew how she came to be there or not. Nevertheless, after the fresh spirits of the water roused her, a sullen sobriety did make itself known, which brought her to both understand her whereabouts and momentarily suppress any inkling to mourn the past. She had cured her insomnia, and her thoughts became like grains of sugar rising and falling in time with the rhythmic currents of the wind. The environment was becoming more and more conspicuous, almost reminding her of the Enchanted Forest where trees were gargantuan creatures bleeding in sap and the milky-blue skylight seeped down through the canopy, scintillating like the silvery backs of fish. She couldn't grasp why the memories were so graphic of her home before Storybrooke, despite years of carrying out mundane, life-melting tasks in the town.<p>

Hair damp and eyes placid, Regina watched Emma stomping down the hill to the river. She was carrying a hoard of supplies however was managing adequately, with only little apparent struggle; though, she had the most ungraceful walk Regina had ever seen. When she arrived at the rocks she threw down the bag, panting, and put her hands on her hips.

"We should probably get going," Emma muttered in between copious puffs of breath.

Their gazes were locked. "Yes, we should," Regina replied.

It was a few minutes until they began to make headway up the other side of the bank. The hill had a gradual slope and they couldn't see anything over its peak except for a blank sky. Walking with potency now, steady and synchronised, it was fairly quiet apart from the echoes of their muddy footsteps.

"So, how was your sleep last night?" Emma enquired.

"Well," Regina began, marching pacifically. "I don't feel much of a difference."

Emma adjusted the bag on her back. "So, I'm not missing out on anything?"

"You most definitely are not."

The sun sank low in the distance. Clouds the colour of ash.

"Have any ideas about how it was possible?" Emma questioned further.

"Sleeping?" Regina raised her eyebrows. "None so far."

Emma looked up vacantly at the trees. "This could still be _my_ dream, then." An army of ruminations encircled her mind.

"Please, Emma, stop painting me as some ghost lurking in a fantasy of yours." Regina looked at her intently. "I am a real person, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Emma nudged Regina's shoulder with her own as they walked. "I'm over that whole theory."

Regina almost laughed at Emma trying to decipher being stranded – in such a rare land where the older woman was _sure_ there had to be magic, somewhere. "So what's your current one, detective?"

If only Regina could just tell her about how it _was_ possible to be cursed or cast to such a land, for the queen had cast such quandaries upon many a man back in the Enchanted Forest. All it took was a spell.

She kept eyeing Emma, who was still basing her survival expertise off mainstream TV, and would lack the precious ability to handle any news whatsoever about magic. All Regina could do was hope that whoever they found on this journey would be able to assist her in creating a spell to transport them back to their respective homes.

"I…don't know. I'd like to start with how _you_ got here," said Emma. _An enigmatic woman_, she thought, _having said nothing about her own coming across this place_.

"It wasn't like what you told me, about what happened to you," Regina went on saying while looking up the hill. "I didn't come to consciousness in a cave. I awoke in the field where I found you. Nothing extraordinary."

"Whichever way you look at it, it's pretty extraordinary," Emma uttered.

"At least I was able to keep both my shoes on…"

Emma smirked and rolled her eyes. "Did you just roam around the forest for a few days before you saw me dead in the grass?"

Regina mulled over the past days – one grey mound of fog in her mind – her fruitless attempts at magic in this land. Embarrassed and red-faced at the secrets. "Do you think the next person we find will merely be another one of us?" she contemplated.

"You didn't answer my question."

Regina stopped in her tracks and flipped around to face Emma. "You didn't answer mine."

Emma halted too, pulling the bag further over her shoulders. "I asked you first."

They had reached a flowerbed sprinkled with white rock and petals the colour of mint. It fell over the side of the hill's summit onto an agricultural plantation where the forest subsided. The field was striped with rows of crops and a discernable trail unveiled itself from under the clement sky.

"Fine, Emma. Yes, I was wandering but I was looking for answers."

Emma looked out at the plantation, a swimming bath washed in green. Her eyes followed the slope's incline down to where the seeds were sewn and the grass danced in the wind. "It's beautiful in this fantasy of mine."

Regina was bewildered. "What?"

Emma reached out her hand to cup Regina's chin and turned the woman's head slowly to the territory in front of them. Regina flinched at the touch but was quickly relieved by the sudden vision of progress ahead. She sighed and drooped her head down. "Too late to go back now, I suppose."

"You're right," replied Emma. "At least there's some kind of path now. If only we knew the path that got us here in the first place."

They continued down the side of the hill and listened to the sounds of each other's breaths entwining in the mild glow of day – Emma panting again, Regina's inhales and exhales light and airy. Footsteps became heavier as they came to the genesis of the plantation where the galaxy held out its monstrous green arms.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Hi Chloe. So sorry I'm late." _

Emma Swan had darted through the restaurant wearing black high-heels and an evening dress to the table. She inhaled the musky scent of the woman across from her and sat down.

"That's alright," Chloe asserted. "I took the liberty of ordering some wine," she added, circling a finger around the rim of her filled glass.

"Perfect." Emma was still flustered from work. She was usually nervous about dates, especially with new acquaintances – hated answering questions about her past, engaging in meaningless small talk about the weather and the news. There was too much of that in New York. She had met Chloe a few times at various bars and friendly gatherings; she was a little younger and insisted she take Emma out for at least _one_ Saturday night.

"How was work?" she asked, still fiddling with her glass.

Emma flipped open a menu and scrolled down the list with her eyes. "The usual."

"You know," Chloe leaned in and confessed, "I don't actually understand what it is you really do."

Emma looked up at her and placed the menu back down on the table. Chloe had dark eyes and burgundy hair that lay in loose waves past her slim face and shoulders – admittedly she had a youthful complexion and an enticing gaze.

"That's because it's not very interesting," Emma assured her.

She scoffed and retorted – "I bet that isn't true."

The waiter came around and took their orders. Chloe was eyeing Emma raptly. "You look beautiful," she said.

Emma didn't let the pink rush to her cheeks; instead, she went for the safe answer: "So do you."

* * *

><p>Regina walked into Dr Hopper's office to pick up Henry. The kid was bubbly as usual, but it was justified; the two had been good friends for years and saw each other informally on a weekly basis. Henry grew to appreciate Archie's wisdom and Archie always enjoyed the company. However, Regina was fed up with the day already and wanted to get home as soon as possible.<p>

"Thank you," she mentioned as she coaxed her son out the door.

"Wait," Archie interjected. "I'd like to have a few words with you, if that's alright."

His smile was always inviting and his tone genuine, yet Regina apologised and told him that she really _had_ to go.

"Please, Regina. I think it would be beneficial." He didn't back down for a second, so Regina told Henry to wait outside and decided to get the whole thing over with.

"So, what's this about? Is Henry doing okay?" she questioned as she sat across from the doctor.

"Actually," he said, still smiling, "I'd like to know how you're doing."

Regina checked the time on her watch. "And for what use is that?"

"Well," Archie began. "Henry is great. He's got a lot of friends now and he's happy. Yet, I feel as though he wants to share that happiness with you, befriend you if I may say so…" He chuckled and caught his breath. "Look, he knows you love him, but he needs to be surrounded with positive energy. That's all I'm saying."

Regina took a deep breath. "I have positive energy."

Archie frowned and rested his chin in his hand. "When was the last time you opened yourself up to someone, emotionally?"

"I'm his mother," she retaliated. "And I believe I do a good enough job of it as it is." She stood up and pulled her bag over her shoulder.

"I am not questioning your parental ability," Archie continued, still seated. "I simply happen to know that families are…complex. The dynamic has to be right. At the moment, I've noticed quite an imbalance. Henry tells me you're always busy and stressed, and tired."

"What do you expect? I _am_ the mayor." Regina walked over to the door and opened it.

"Yes, you are," he replied. "But that shouldn't stop you from ever asking for help, or pursuing things outside of work. I know that your happiness means a lot to Henry."

The doctor grinned and made his way to the door to shake Regina's hand. Henry was pacing back and forth in the hallway. "Just think about it."

Regina looked over to Henry and then back to Archie. "I will."

* * *

><p>Regina's name was burning on Emma's lips. She was bored and aching for some kind of conversation, though Regina had been adamant about formalities beforehand…nevertheless, the expedition had been consumed by silence for a while and the landscape was becoming bland. They meandered into the afternoon and the sun descended slowly, ejaculating an orange light that spilled over the terrain.<p>

"What's the last thing you remember? Before this, I mean…" Emma initiated.

Regina was feeling sluggish now but kept walking through the crops. "I can't remember," she said.

"Well that's helpful." Emma pulled her hair back into a ponytail as they made their way across the plantation.

"Sorry," Regina simpered. "I suppose just being at home with Henry. Either that or I was at work. My days are so similar that the options are rather narrow."

Green grass climbed up their ankles. Emma's shoulders were becoming tired. "Very adventurous," she teased.

"Unfortunately I don't have time to be adventurous," was the response.

Emma laughed – "But look at you now!" She waved a hand in the air, presenting the barren field in front of her like a TV host.

Regina joined in the laughter yet under her breath. Emma was right. What a difference.

They stopped abruptly when what looked like a farmhouse came into view upon a hill in the distance. It was of considerable size and the path through the grounds led straight to it. They looked at each other keenly, and without speaking a word, shared their sudden relief.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Fuck," _Chloe whimpered as Emma kissed down her neck. _"Please stay."_

During the trip home – to Chloe's home that was – they had teased each other with their words and then with their hands, barely able to control physical urges. It was late and the moon fell into the sky. Emma's eyes could barely stay open but she had been so distant throughout the entire date, so she felt somewhat obliged to make up for it.

Chloe leant against the door and pulled Emma closer, moving her arms from the back of the blonde's neck down her spine and then to her belt, tugging at it fiercely with both hands. Emma's body tingled and melted into the other woman who was breathing heavily at the contact. As Emma's lips met the soft arch of her collarbone she lingered there for a second, sucking in the hot, sugary fragrance of skin – but before the belt could come undone she moved herself away.

"I can't do this tonight," she panted, wiping at her lips with the back of her arm.

Chloe reached out a hand but Emma was reluctant to hold it. She was taken aback at the rejection. "Emma? What's wrong?"

"I'm just really tired," she murmured.

Chloe stepped closer and pressed her forehead against Emma's. "Are you sure?" she moaned, not wanting to spend the night alone.

Emma gently nodded and whispered, "I wouldn't be able to please you."

They stood apart from each other and said their goodbyes. Emma had no true intention of seeing Chloe again. She had experienced enough summer flings to fill a novel. And she was tired of sex – not tired of the act itself, but sex without meaning, without zest or hunger or rage. She wanted to feel something. She was tired of feeling nothing.

* * *

><p>Regina's head sunk back into her pillow. Her bed was comfortable yet it couldn't comfort her solitude. The clock ticked just past midnight and a blue dusk shone into the room where she lay silently. After dinner, Henry had run off to watch TV and eventually crawled away to his own room. She couldn't stop thinking about what Archie had said, because he was right. It had been forever since she had <em>truly <em>opened up to anyone, let alone allowed someone close enough to her without immediately casting him or her away. Not after Daniel. Friendships were artificial in Storybrooke – hell – the entirety of Storybrooke was artificial. Regina was already living in this lie. It was too much to comprehend then, so she lay there where she desired for some spirit to fly her away. She loved Henry but she was lonely. She loved Henry but it wasn't enough. She was empty inside, dark, with the vacant hues of blue air circling her clouded, sallow headspace, thinking of everything and nothing all at once.

* * *

><p>"It's big, isn't it?"<p>

Emma looked up at the house from beneath the hill. Regina squinted and followed Emma's eyes there too – "Much bigger than the cabin," she said. "But are you sure we should investigate it?"

"What other choice do we have? Stay in this place until the end of time?" Emma protested. Regina just looked around glassily and shrugged her shoulders.

"Let's go," Emma continued, approaching the property.

They were vigilant when skulking near. The house towered over the plantation and cast a cosmic shadow where a portico, its pillars entwined with chrysanthemums, was. A cloying sunset cloaked itself over the roof and down through the field where the grass was bathed in a citrus gloom. _The end of time_, Regina fantasised. _Until the end of time._


	5. Offing

**This chapter took longer than expected, but I'm glad it's finished. Unfortunately, I go off inspiration and the last couple of episodes didn't provide much. However, one can imagine. Enjoy.**

Chapter 5: Offing

_"__Casper__!"_

The cat ran into the fence. Wet with mud. Nyx smoked a pipe in the garden. Hummed an evening folk song as her son tamed the animal.

"Savage thing…shouldn't have brought it back here," he howled and prised the kitten up into his arms, cradling it like a baby. "It won't learn."

The aura of his mother compassed the garden. "You're the savage thing," she fumed stormily.

Lucifer's body pivoted to face her. The woman was shrouded by a long nightblue robe, velvet and draping in wavelike layers over pale skin. She was rather tall, even when seated at table and chair, always smoking, always smoking something. The smoke loomed off the red pipe in puffs of grey and circumnavigated golden hoops pierced through her earlobes, faded red lipstick…and her hair was as black as the evening itself with small red flowers twined in its lacy strands, drooping like a dark waterfall down to her navel. Her hands were slender, the white stems of sharp coal nails but not skeletal, spellbound by globular, silver rings that matched her eyes, staring at her son like two sapless orbs.

"I can't imagine what you're thinking about, mother."

Nyx inhaled the pipe again before settling it in between her knuckles. "Of course you can't, my dear."

All of a sudden, their hearts jumped at the sound of a woman falling through the bushes. Casper leapt out of Lucifer's arms. Emma Swan stumbled to her feet and wiped at the grass stains on her kneecaps.

"Heavens!" Nyx coughed, catching her breath.

"Sorry." Emma shook off the leaves and proceeded towards them. "The perimeter was pretty closed off."

Lucifer nodded and crossed his arms. "That's the point, lady."

The plantation appeared even more rolling from atop the hill where the house was. A white portico preceded the vast estate and through a series of gates down a gravel road by its side was the garden, suffused by gloomy colour.

"And who might this be?" Nyx chanted, pointing a bony finger towards Emma.

Lucifer sniffed and eyed the blonde. "She was living in the cabin. In the forest."

His mother cast him a disapproving lour. She never liked when he strayed so far from home. He had just reached adulthood and often wanted to get away, but she was so lonely and solemn in that place by herself.

"Yes. We met in the cabin and she attacked me."

Emma grimaced at him and slouched. "I didn't mean to…"

"Of course you didn't," he interjected with a yellow expression, clenching his small fists.

The garden was darkening, only illuminated by orange lights hanging from the treetops and the glowing amber rooms from inside the house. Outside, a mild wind was fresh and dulcet, frolicking from the spacious grass to Nyx's table, and cascading through Emma's hair. She immediately caught sight of the cat, which was arching its back against a leg of the table.

"Savage, don't you think?" Nyx thrummed, following Emma's moue to the animal.

"What?" she snapped and looked up.

"A wild, savage thing…" the woman mumbled on through the smoke romping in rings around her pipe. Emma stared at Lucifer, who still posed grimly. He unclenched his fists and rubbed an eye. Evening was lowering into the sky.

"Well, all is for all," Nyx sang through the vapour. "State your name and business, mysterious creature."

Emma treaded around the garden. "My name is Emma Swan. Me and my…uh…friend, need help."

Regina had been waiting on the porch. She refused to take part in Emma's safari through the shrubbery, preferring to be more polite in saluting the strangers. The women had seen them from afar, down the grey side-road and naturally, Emma desired to make herself a fool in front of them. It wasn't supposed to be by method of literally crashing into the garden. And in the words of Emma herself: "When I befriend them, I'll come get you." The wait had lasted longer than Regina was expecting, and she was stuck minding the bag of supplies and her own typhoon of nerves. This kind of barbaric roaming wasn't fit for a queen, and Emma had already gotten under her skin – not in a maddening way, yet she was intensely sensitive to Emma's presence now, her energy, her intent, the entirety of her climate was hypnotic.

"_Where's your friend?_ The one that interrogated me, I assume," Lucifer groaned. His patience was wearing thin.

Nyx stood up from her chair and plodded over to her son, slapping him on the arm. "Emma Swan…" she pursued, reaching out a hand to shake the one of her new acquaintance. "We are just lonely folk here. There is nothing we can help you with, I'm sure of it."

Emma breathed in the pungent perfume of the woman and took a step back. Her face changed, from lucid to sallow and bloodless. "Please. We need answers."

"Well, you may come inside, if you wish," Nyx intoned.

A haunting firelight rained down the hill in warm streaks. The temperature was rather pleasant, just like the air upon rising from sleep in the morning – the groggy, soporific condition one wakes up with until they turn the lights on, look out some window at the pith of day and realise they aren't dreaming anymore – and that is when the air is pleasant, and the weather is unimportant and unnoticed, because for one second they remember again, for the millionth time in their life, that they are alive.

"Come on." Emma was leaning against the doorframe, waving a hand at Regina from the other side of the portico where the entrance to the house was.

Regina hopped up and sauntered over to Emma who was pulling up the sleeves of her shirt. She peered inside the house – there was a long hallway, wooden floors and a fireplace beneath gold-cased mantelpieces, watercolour seascape paintings on the walls – it looked like a real home. They bumbled about the door for a while, Emma explaining the earlier encounter, while Regina was still slightly apprehensive. Yet, looking at Emma who was so sure of herself made her forget the natural fear of what she could not control.

"Just relax," soothed Emma's voice, holding out a hand. To her surprise, Regina clasped it without hesitation and Emma slowly led her inside the house to where Nyx and Lucifer were seated at a dining table peppered with glowing blue candles. Regina stared vacantly at them, a little unsure of what to say, while Emma went straight to the table and joined the two. The other woman eventually followed and introduced herself.

"We're curious about this _Sunbelt_ place," Emma began. Regina crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table nervously.

"Oh," Nyx cut in. "This place is called Neptune Valley. The Sunbelt is only an easterly stretch of land."

Emma tilted her head, widening her eyes. "God, this is confusing."

"Not so much," Lucifer contradicted, still wary about the two women.

"I need some air," Regina spat out.

Emma turned to her and opened her mouth to speak but just as she did, a white kitten jumped up onto her lap to greet her. "Oh, Cheek…ah…_Casper_, I've missed you." She rubbed its fur, and before she could get back to Regina, the older woman had disappeared from the dining table.

Regina _had_ to go outside to catch her breath; she wasn't overwhelmed as such, but she needed to reprocess her thoughts. Refocus her magic. Reformulate her plan. Emma had a determined spirit but she was still rather naïve.

"What's going on out here?" Nyx appeared on the portico with a grin.

Regina took a deep breath. "Nothing." She leant awkwardly against a pillar.

"I'm sure you two will find your way," the other woman continued as she sat down on an armchair. "You seem intelligent enough to."

"I don't know about that," was the blank response.

Nyx looked out at the plantation, which was gleaming in its sunless wake.

"Please, put me out of my misery." Regina's head was resting in her palms. "Is this a realm of magic?" A rush of blue came around the bend of the hill, the hot, fine gusts of evening wind swarming the starlit Valley. She was simultaneously optimistic and pessimistic.

"No, this is not necessarily a _land_ of magic," Nyx exhaled. "But…" She paused. "I _am_ trained in the art of alchemy, though I haven't touched the craft for many years."

Regina was promptly intrigued, her face lighting up. Nyx took out another pipe, a rich glassy colour of pearl, and fondled it in between her knuckles.

"Do you have any experience with locator spells? I mean…I'm trained in magic…as well…" Regina floundered for a not-so-revealing-explanation about her mystical prowess, which was something she never really had to _explain_. Yet, she did so, further.

"I've been able to use magic since I was young," she began.

Nyx replied – "Not me. I used to read about spells and the like when I was a child, but I could never grasp it. Guess I didn't have the focus."

Regina nodded in agreement. "It isn't easy."

"Ha," the other woman chuckled. "There aren't many of us who practice the ancient chemistry of the Gods." She stroked an armrest of the chair. "If you're willing, I may suggest some methods by which we may solve your dilemma. But I do warn you, I'm rather rusty."

Regina was nearly bowing at the woman's feet now, hungry for whatever spell would transport her and Emma home.

Nyx had no such mystical prowess, and hence no such instant spell. Instead, she was curious. "Does Emma wield magic?"

"No, most definitely not…" Regina worked her way around a resolution, which outlined Emma's probable inconceivability when it came to the craft. Nyx understood – alchemy was something delicate – and often dangerous. So, they basked out on the portico for a while, mapping out each other's experience and possible avenues out of the Valley, while another moon was roosting in the sky.

"Well, should Emma know of this master scheme we are brewing?"

Regina belittled her travelling comrade. "No, the only thing she thinks of as any sort of material is this _Fountain of Venus _nonsense."

"Ah…" Nyx ruminated, whirling her pipe in an orbital transit. "So she knows about the Fountain?"

"What Fountain?" Regina was inquisitive, her gait flinty and plastic. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Oh."

"The Fountain of Venus is the eye of all magic in the Valley. Its power is _said_, in a myth, to fuel this land. We don't know much about it, but it's far off and not many dare to go there. Lucifer doesn't let me bother with legends…sceptics…public speculation."

Regina's lifeblood thickened with the prospect. "I think I know what we need to do."

* * *

><p>"How do people travel around here?" Emma was asking Lucifer a hundred questions.<p>

"There aren't many people _to_ travel, but we do have boats on the river, some tractors and I've got a truck but it's way down on the farm."

"You got any bus stops…transport…anything?"

"Sorry, lady. I don't know what you're talking about. All we know is the Valley and that's where the land ends." He almost felt sorry for her bemusement.

"Can you tell me where we are on a world map?"

"Got no world maps here."

Emma rolled her eyes and placed her fingertips against her temples. Everything was quite nugatory. "God, I'm sick of this. I should just give up."

Lucifer tapped his hands on the table in metrical patterns, like he was playing an imaginary drum. When his limbs became idle, he went to the kitchen to fetch a bottle and some glasses. "Well, we do have wine here," was the nearly comical attempt at lightening Emma's temperament. There was some pacification in the delight of alcohol, which was fructified by a vineyard on the plantation – yet it was only a suppressor. She sipped the drink and relished the distant tang of home, the faraway taste gambolling on her tongue.

"So, how long have you known Regina?" Lucifer questioned, making funny gestures with his hands.

"Oh," Emma coughed. "We only met when we arrived here. She found me."

A bewildered look became plastered on his face. "Right," he murmured.

"Are there many people who live here? Any tourists?" Emma was dying for information.

"Not many," Lucifer piped. "There are people that live in the Valley, each for their own purpose, that is. We here tend to the farm and other frequencies; there are families who live by the seaside and in the forest, but we don't have many lone wanderers. We get travellers, sometimes." He sniffed and continued. "They pass by, but soon they're gone, or rather, they find what they've been looking for here and have no need to stay."

"I'm not looking for anything," Emma muttered.

"Well…" Lucifer leant into the back of his chair and drank his wine. "I couldn't help you even if you were." Murky light seeped in through the windows until it was killed by the luminosity of the candles resting on the table.

"Are you completely sane, Emma Swan?"

Emma scrunched up her face. "What?"

"Well," he croaked, placing his glass down on the table. "Whether this pretty chimera of yours is confusing to you or not…the key to drowning your delusion wouldn't lie in this place, or in me and my mother…but in you, and perhaps, if the spirits will allow it…in Regina."

"Regina thinks I'm an idiot."

Lucifer nearly choked on his drink. "What?"

Emma's eyes wandered into the distance. "She's emotional but she's smart…and I'm just…some clumsy idiot following behind her."

"I'm sure that isn't true." Lucifer grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Nobody likes to be alone."

"I suppose," Emma mumbled, a light headache hitting her gently on the skull, telling her to put the glass down, but she didn't. It was becoming humid. She noticed a piano in the corner of the living room.

"Do you play?" Lucifer asked.

"No, no way." Emma looked back at him, relinquishing the instrument from her sight. "I wish. Do you?"

"No, but my mother does. When she's sad."

Emma's eyes were becoming a little watery. "Is she?"

* * *

><p>"Regina and I have figured out an escape plan for the both of you," Nyx sang out as they pranced back inside to the table.<p>

Emma's face brightened, her physiognomy instantaneously animated like a wildfire was sparked inside of her. "What? Really? How?" She had a hundred more questions but they became lost as she slurred her words.

"Calm down," Regina purred as she and Nyx took their seats. "It…requires a lot. It'll take time. We can talk it through more thoroughly in the morning."

Regina was smiling rather confidently and it almost frightened Emma how sure of herself she was, so she just stared at the woman vacuously with japanned eyes.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

Emma blinked hard and shook her head, steadying herself. Regina caught sight of the glasses of wine on the table, accompanied by well over a bottle or two, and gave Emma a disapproving look.

"I'm looking forward to it," Lucifer proclaimed, slamming a fist on the surface.

"To what?" Emma asked, leaning into the centre of the table.

"_To the_ _plan_," Regina spoke slowly. Nyx just put a hand to her forehead and laughed in deep undertones.

"Oh," Emma asserted. "Yeah, I know, right. The _plan_," she mocked.

Regina rested an elbow on the table. "Don't worry, Emma."

"I'm not worried, Regina."

Nyx swept the bottles and glasses away and suggested that the two travellers stay overnight. They kindly accepted this proposition.

"However, I only have one spare room," she furthered. Regina rolled her eyes.

"Not true," Lucifer chimed in. "There's a bed up in the loft."

Nyx just remembered. "Oh, very well then."

* * *

><p>"Well, this is it," Lucifer revealed, the four of them making their way into the first room. It was cosy and small, bed bare, and dark, yawning curtains draped over the entrance to a balcony, the door to which was slightly ajar, letting a minute breeze waft into the space.<p>

"Either of you may reside here," Nyx added.

Emma and Regina looked at each other. Eyes as erratic as ocean waves.

"Or…you may both?" Lucifer was at a loss.

"No, I'll take it," Regina said. "This is fine."

"Great." Nyx sauntered over to make the bed, yet Regina assured her out of politeness that she could do it herself.

"Very well," she thanked, and turned back.

Emma leant against the wall, feeling a little groggy.

"We'll take you upstairs," Nyx assured her, as she started to leave the room with her son.

"I'll just be a minute," Emma acknowledged. They nodded and left the space, spiralling up the stairs to the higher level.

The breeze was still falling like water over them, the climate torrential with potency.

"Is everything alright?" Regina quickly questioned from the opposite side of the room.

Emma rested her head against the wall. Engulfed in the quiet for a little while. "I – I'll…" She couldn't quite make out a sentence. "I'll help with the bedding."

Regina's posture melted, and she whispered, "That's fine, Emma."

* * *

><p>"Emma, stop it," she scorned, laughing in staggered breaths. "You told me you would assist with the bedding, yet you're ruining it."<p>

Regina was a meticulous precisionist; she preferred perfection when it came to room interiors. And Emma wasn't helping, as while the woman incessantly tried to make the bed, she was sprawled over it like an animal, mumbling to herself in shallow tones.

"Emma…" Regina hummed, her voice falling an octave lower. The blonde wasn't listening. She was too busy rolling around the blankets, messing up the sheets.

"Where's Casper?" Emma looked up and questioned, eyes glazing over darkly. Regina rolled her eyes and slowly walked over to the bed where she sat down by her, Emma laying on her back, glaring at the ceiling.

"I'm not sure, dear."

"That's a shame. Where's the wine?" Emma's eyes danced around the room. "Some pipe dream _this_ is," she garbled and toppled over the side of the bed, finding her footing on the carpet.

"I think you should sit down over there," Regina snickered, pointing to a chair. She found the entire display rather funny.

"What do you think of me?" Emma stammered; she was suddenly invading Regina's personal space, the women standing face-to-face by a messy bed and a pile of forgotten reveries. The room became hot and they were already flushed. Regina could feel Emma's breath, electrified by liquor, kink in light, clear puffs.

"You're tired," she whispered.

"Well, I've managed to stay awake for longer than you." Emma grinned proudly, still having had zero sleep since being away from home.

Regina moved away from her. "Are you pleased with yourself?"

"Yes," said Emma, giving her a lazy thumbs-up.

Regina began to feel tired herself. Her legs were sore from walking – she wasn't as physically fit as Emma was – and it was taking a toll on her limbs. Emma caught her fatigue with one glimpse of her body, slouching as she stood.

"Hey, I'll do this." Emma gave Regina a gentle shove over to the seat. She began to make the bed that she was previously destroying, folding the coverings and straightening the creases.

Regina sank into the chair and closed her eyes lightly. "We'll be out of here in no time," she assured, bathing in the possibility of it.

"Oh really?" Emma countered while arranging layers of linen.

"Yes," Regina asserted. "It'll be like…" She stopped. Opened her eyes. "Like magic."

Emma raised her eyebrows. She went to fetch a pair of pillowcases from the closet. "Whatever you say," she intoned.

Regina dissolved into an innocent fit of laughter as she watched Emma stumble around the room, almost strangled in blankets. The inebriated blonde was funny already, but seeing her attempt to organise the bed with such precision was almost too much to bear.

"Why do you always laugh at me?" Emma turned around and glared at her, causing Regina to silence herself. "Now I know what you _really_ think."

Regina rose to her feet and inspected the bed. "This will do."

Emma fell back onto it again, placing her hands behind her head. "I do everything for you. And you just laugh at me for it." Her words were barely audible, and her expression turned sombre quickly.

Regina sighed. "I'm not laughing at you, Emma."

"Seems like it." Her voice was smooth and heavy. "I'm going to leave now."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Never been better."

* * *

><p>The highest level of the house was a large sky-room where each of the walls, as well as the ceiling was translucent glass, giving way to a surrounding 360-degree view of the environs. The furniture consisted of a few wooden armchairs, a bookshelf and a scarlet-blanketed bed close to the centre, alone and futile with the absence of anyone to lie upon it.<p>

"This room was meant for reading books and lying in the sun," Nyx incanted. "Now," she droned, swiping a finger against one of the glass-walls and picking up small feathers of dusty residue, "I rarely touch the things."

"_That's _the Sunbelt, the field and forest." Lucifer nudged Emma's arm and pointed towards the east. "And the mountains and the caves."

"And the sea is in the west," Nyx drawled, her eyes floating through the opposite screen. Emma looked out at the nebulous arc of a shoreline in the evening light. The watery flood of the offing tickled at the dark sky.

"It's beautiful," Emma mused. "Regina has to see this."

"It's late," Nyx cut in. "She can see the view in the morning. It's even more beautiful when the sun floods the Valley and you can hear the bluebirds singing."

The illustration sounded like something out of Snow White. Emma thought for a second – "I'd rather that she see it now" – and darted back down the stairs, out of sight.

And she was right; it was beautiful at any time of the day, and it would always be, to her.

The mother and son were left up in the loft. "Should we tell them?" Lucifer peered at Nyx anxiously.

"Tell them what?" She was circling the sky-room with a quiet stalk, like a wild cat waiting to pounce on its prey.

Lucifer followed her trail, the colour of her robe elucidated by a faint glow. "You know what I'm talking about."

"We've never met anyone quite like them," she spoke in muted tones. "Usually they know each other before they come here. Makes you wonder what the catalyst was."

"Mother, are you aware that we will never know what the catalyst was?"

Nyx was lighting candles and setting them along the bookshelf. They were ivory-tinted and made the glass panels shine in shades of blue and grey.

"Mother!" Lucifer blurted out.

"Oh, can't we not simply enjoy the spectacle, for once?"

Lucifer was shuffling about nervously while Nyx arranged the shelf. "They seemed quite distraught though," he pondered.

"Not as distraught as they would have been in their separate lives. I will thank Destiny whether you like it or not."

Lucifer rested an arm on top of the shelf and glared at his mother. "Emma and Regina will sail into the afterlife before they even _begin_ to know anything about each other's lives." He broke off. "The road is thwarted with pitfalls."

"Who said anything about knowing each other's lives? You can't _know_ anyone's life, not _really_." She stared out the window into a cloudy nothingness. "No matter how close you are to them."

"And you truly believe that?" Lucifer interrogated, looking over her shoulder.

"I very much do."

* * *

><p>The room was dark and heavy with languor. Emma creaked the door open with what discreetness she could conjure. Her mind was the sun and her thoughts like lazy planets orbiting it in grey gyrations, each aligned astrologically to Regina. Emma moved further near the bed – Regina was laying on her side with her back facing the door – and her body was half-draped in silky sheets, the olive sculpture of her neck, waist and spine exposed in the foggy lustre. Emma's whole temper softened into the sight of beauty, rarely seen, so she suppressed, with all the sanity she could find, the urge to wake her.<p>

Just as Emma turned around to exit the room, the muffled hue of Regina's voice fled into her veins.

"Emma?"

Regina then rotated her body to face her, covering herself up to the neck with a blanket.

Emma gulped. "I was just…looking for something." Her feet were planted in the ground.

"What were you looking for?" Regina's voice echoed through the room like a gentle hum.

"Nothing." Her head was spinning. She paced back through the door and shut it behind her.

_What are you doing_ _Swan_, she cursed herself. At once she was sensing a prodigious rush of emotion and couldn't quite understand where its genesis lay. _You're an idiot. Go back upstairs._

* * *

><p>"How can you say that?"<p>

"Say what?" Nyx posed innocuously. "That you don't have to know someone's entire life story to fall in love with them?"

Lucifer nodded, but then shook his head. "I don't know, mother. You don't know much about Destiny."

"It doesn't matter if I do, or if I don't…" she began, pointing sternly at her son. "Who you're meant to end up with is often a fluid possibility; it changes like the sea-tides, every moment. You know that the ebb goes in and out every day and that eventually the water will come to rest at either the shore, or back in the deep blue."

"I don't need an analogy."

"It is not an analogy," she gnashed. "I'm simply saying that you can know the direction something is going, without knowing exactly at what point in time it will reach its rest."

"But the astronomers can predict the tides by using trivial calculations regarding planetary movement."

"As can Destiny."

Lucifer's pupils dilated. "You say Destiny knows these things, yet we are unable to?"

"We can only predict occurrences with human intuition. None of us know what's written in the stars, but we keep on living anyway, for they are continuously being rewritten."

He gave her a fruity smile. "I think that's enough for one night. I'll be off."

"As will I, though I'll clean up downstairs first."

So they parted ways, gracefully, and the night crept up on the Valley like a wolf.

* * *

><p>Emma's heart was going like mad. Blue lamplight was feeding through the hallway like the ripples of a Parisian canal. A remote piano melody came into those waters. Nyx must have been sad. The origin of sound was, a pretty one-handed song, with the ring of winter, flickering through the house. Which, ravelled itself around Emma's heart and turned it mellow. The door was opened once again, yet this time by Regina, who probed with her whole being at Emma's drunken frailty.<p>

"I can't sleep if I know you're lurking out here."

"I'm not lurking," Emma hushed.

Regina had covered herself with a white robe, barely disclosing any flesh beyond the skin of her neck. She leant against the doorframe and ran a hand through her hair.

"You're lurking."

"I'm…a night owl."

Emma was, in the spur of the moment, reaching emptily for words. The world was turning rather slowly and gravity was falling asleep at the sight of her intoxication. What was the secret to stillness? Perhaps nobody knew.

"You're not a night owl," Regina seared.

Emma's eyes scintillated with pigments of green. "Are you going to oppose everything I say?"

Those curious eyes wandered down Regina's neck to her chest. Nyx's melody was still rolling off the blue walls. Regina's face became awfully serious.

"Yes."

Not even a slight wince of humour, nor blink over the pupils was fixed in the twilight, only a simple expression, which held so much in that secret stillness. Time was bleeding through the hourglass.

Emma bit her lower lip and whispered, "Why?" The word seemed to drift away with the current of the song.

Regina's eyes were cool like the sea after a storm. She pulled Emma inside the room, which was still dark and heated like the night itself. And Emma's heart beat faster in time with the muffled sequence of the piano fading off into the void. And the walls gave way to the sound of silence when a foamy wind seeped in through the balcony door and made the curtains quiver. And when Emma fell into Regina's arms, the same blue heat loomed high in flames of jade and ocean smoke.

* * *

><p><em>The only paradise is paradise lost.<em>

– Marcel Proust

* * *

><p>"You're as insolent as my son when he won't sleep," Regina chuckled as she held Emma up by her waist.<p>

Emma sunk into the lustrous embrace, head resting on her shoulder and hands overlaid on her back. "Sorry, I'm just feeling dizzy."

And she was, but the scent of Regina was even more intoxicating, her hair brushing against Emma's cheek.

But they drew away, and meandered to the balcony door. "Come here," she invited.

Emma was quick to follow, both of them moving forth onto it, which was rather expansive and encompassed a chaise lounge and table, a small sculpture of an angel and an array of colourful flowers. It faced the seascape of the west, which panned out along the waterlogged coast.

They sat down on the lounge side by side, and Emma's head found its way onto Regina's shoulder. The night was still. Regina's arm was latched around her back, too, and secured around her middle. Emma closed her eyes and listened, gingerly, to the distant crash of waves on sand while Regina, for a fleeting second thought of Henry and the beaming smile she missed so much. The air was warm and the scenery was pleasant then, when the velvety graze of Emma's skin became no longer foreign, or a burden, but a palliative cure for homesickness.

Emma opened an eye and peeked up at her; she was looking straight out to the sea. Gazed impulsively and raptly. "What's your biggest fear?" she breathed in low, soft tones.

Regina barely heard the words, although she could distinguish the intention. Her grip on Emma's waist tightened as she considered the answer again. Yet, she wouldn't let it escape her lips if she could bear to keep it in secrecy for a while longer, for Emma didn't need to know such things.

"Shh," Regina silenced her, and slid her arm up her side to the back of her neck. She brushed her hand through the golden hair and Emma closed her eyes again, dissolving into the woman.

All the nocturnal attempts at coaxing Henry to bed when he'd either had a nightmare, or was, by nature, too exuberant and full of energy to even contemplate sleep, made the boundless plight with Emma, who was already straying off into the abyss, nothing unorthodox.

There, in the glassy sea was the frugal case of happiness, where, it laid its eyes upon the loneliest souls. They didn't know when happiness would come, but they could dream about that immortal mirage night and day.

So Emma forgot, for a cursory juncture in the cardinal stages of her life, that she was anywhere but home.


	6. Nightflower

Chapter 6: Nightflower

It was early. A fine rain had come overnight and its tropical residue glittered like a kaleidoscope across the Valley, which was, fairly soaped in sticky dew. The corpse of a rainbow was in the sky, like a vitreous dome over the sea, and there were, as Nyx had hitherto articulated, the gentle birdsongs of those winged creatures and pink butterflies circling the air, like something out of a pretty dream.

Emma had, in the fullness of time, slept through the night. Something about the evening before made her body loosen into a state of calm, but now she was awake and her head was spinning with the aftermath of alcohol – a hangover, nonetheless. And the meek weather came into the room when she slowly opened her eyes, slothfully. She was lying on her side, seeing the balcony door in front of her, which was lightly swinging back and forth in the morning gust. The new day ran over her skin and all became pleasing, and sublime, the smell of sunrise saturating the bed.

And that's when something else hit her – the fact that she was on the _bed_, and disordered memories of the night before came flooding back in heavy streams. She wasn't home; she was still in the Valley and, perhaps, still in some enchanting dream she could not escape from. Her hand found its way onto her face – _There's my insomnia cured_ – and she flicked back the stray strands of hair that were composing a messy fringe across her forehead. She was too lax to get up. _I bet I look awful_, she thought. _I feel awful_.

The aroma of coffee floated into the room. Her senses lit up at the fragrance. For a second she felt like she could turn around and go downstairs, but her body was still apathetic. She groaned and tossed the blankets away. _Seize the day_, she dictated. _Take hold of it and…ugh, no._ Nothing was working.

A few moments before, Regina, despite having had little sleep herself took the liberty of making breakfast. Nobody else was in sight – Lucifer had gone out to the plantation and Nyx was nowhere to be found – so she seized the opportunity to add some routine into the newly unordinary lifestyle she was leading. But it was only temporary. Soon, the plan would be in action, if only the lazy participants would show themselves.

She recalled holding Emma until she drifted to sleep. When the soft puffs of her breath became slower, Regina moved her to the bed and lay there too. She was strong but there was no way she could make it up those spiral stairs with the blonde in her arms; besides, she had probably just passed out from all the liquor consumption.

"Good morning," was the voice that echoed through the kitchen.

Regina turned around. "Good morning," she said. "I take it you don't mind me–"

"Oh, it's fine," said Lucifer. "You're allowed to eat."

He put down the shovel he was holding and went to sit on the lounge, opening a large book on his lap. "How was Emma last night?" he called out. "I noticed that she didn't sleep up in the loft."

Regina paused in silence, pouring the coffee.

"Sorry, I wasn't suggesting anything."

"No, of course," she responded. "Emma was feeling a little nauseous, but I'm sure she's perfectly fine now."

She walked over to the lounge and joined him; he was flipping through the pages of the book as if it were a race against time. He noticed her looking at him perplexedly and stopped.

She sipped the drink. "Please, continue."

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, pointing to what looked like the ancient guise of some oracle of an opus, with abstract diagrams and lists cascading along its sheets.

"No."

He chuckled and closed it to view the cover, wiping his hand along the front like it was a prized possession. "It was buried in the field. But Nyx told me about the plan and ordered me to retrieve it."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "Really? When?"

"This morning," he said.

"Oh." She placed her mug on the coffee table. "I didn't realise she was awake."

"She went for a walk. But she'll be back any minute."

"Oh." The book on his lap became intriguing now.

"I kept telling her to put this down, but I knew she never would unless I hid it," he muttered, tapping on the cover with his fingers.

"What is it?" Regina questioned, leaning in to see well.

"Neptune Valley has a lot of myths," he began. "These are just a bunch of prehistoric spells of long ago, which my mother has been obsessed with since I was a child. They're written into the legends. She has a lot of faith in these."

"Why?" Regina pretended, as if she didn't have great faith in such things herself. Magic was never easy, but it was a way to ingrain hope into the future and forge a path, no matter how ancient the craft was. The queen couldn't remember who she was without it.

"She used to think she could bring back my father." He tipped his head and put the book down on the table.

"Sorry," Regina expressed. And she remembered when she had used her father's heart as a sacrifice for the curse, which, although had seemed like the right thing to do at the time – that heart wrenching act – was even more heart wrenching to her now.

"Morning!" Emma called out in a high-pitched tone. She was drifting aimlessly over to the kitchen, the magnetic attraction of coffee tingling at her senses.

Regina kneeled up on the lounge.

Lucifer did the same and turned his gaze to the kitchen, giving off a sour frown. "What are you wearing?"

"I changed," Emma mentioned as she gathered food and coffee from the bench without any hesitation regarding whether it was hers or not.

"You can't…you can't wear that," he glowered.

"Why not?" She had simply changed her top into a grey knit sweater.

Lucifer groaned. "Because it's not yours."

"Yeah, I know," she murmured. "We took clothes from the cabin. They'll get returned…eventually." She sat herself down at the dining table and looked out the window at the garden in its fresh glow.

"You know, you _are_ allowed to wash your own clothes here." He was stubborn, but Emma was even more stubborn, which made Regina's head fall into her hands with embarrassment.

"Who cares? It's not like it's yours."

"Of course it's not mine."

"Whose is it then?"

The sharp clang of the garden door hit the air.

"Just a girl I've been seeing."

"What?" Nyx was back from her walk and appeared inside the house.

"What?" Emma yelped.

"What?"

"Who?" Nyx interrogated. "What's going on?"

Lucifer cast a menacing glare over to Emma, who immediately put on a disguise of innocence.

"Is this why you keep going away to that cabin? To see a _girl_?" Nyx was furious.

"Mother…" he grumbled. "It's not what you think it is."

"Is it what I think it is?" she grilled Emma.

"I think it is," she answered under her breath.

Regina was still speechless. The air was sticky with tension. Emma smiled at her from afar.

"A word, please." Nyx gestured at her son. "Now. Outside."

He whimpered like a child but with little protest, ventured out into the garden with his mother, where, the faint sounds of an argument rose up into an inferno.

Emma still looked quite clement at the table, rubbing at her eyes and pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "I slept great," she initiated.

"What?" Regina couldn't hear her from the other side of the room.

"Come here," she signalled in a sweeping motion. Pushed out the chair across the table from her with a foot.

The morning was green and zestful, sunlight seeping in through the windows.

"I slept great," she repeated as the other woman sat down.

"Oh, I know. I could tell from all the snoring." Regina's face was inscrutable.

"Excuse me?"

"And the sleep talking," she reflected. "You were out like a light."

"Well," Emma thought, gulping down her coffee and remembering that she wasn't the most graceful of bedmates. "I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing."

"I'm only joking. You were so quiet I almost forgot you were there."

Emma smirked and said, "I knew it," with a cheesy grin. "Although…" she mused, crossing her legs. "I almost forgot about this place when I woke up. I almost thought that I was at home in my apartment and I was about to get up and go to work, realising that this was probably some weird nightmare but then, then again I guess I should know better by now."

"You should," Regina said softly, among the cooing chirps of Nyx and Lucifer taking stabs at each other outside.

"Thanks for not abandoning me on the balcony."

"What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there?" Regina looked coy.

"You could have taken me to my room. Like a man of decency."

"You would have broken my back on those stairs."

Emma sighed affectedly. "I don't really remember much of last night, but I assume some sort of plan is in action now?"

"Not yet," she replied. "Nyx is driving the whole thing. I'm just helping."

Emma stared at her attentively. She waited a few moments. "Well, is it a secret?"

"I'm waiting for the others."

"Oh, right."

Emma still gave off the impression of being sleepy. She was groggy and lethargic with little sap.

"I _will_ return the stuff from the cabin, you know."

Regina studied her guilt. "Do you really think I care?"

"Not really," she surmised. "I think you care about going home to Henry, and that's it."

"Isn't it the same for you?"

"Going home? Yes. It's all I've ever cared about."

Emma's eyes were sober now. The garden door swung open once again and Nyx appeared; she fetched the book and then went over to join them at the table.

"Where's your son?" Regina forwarded.

"He's gone out to the farm again. Being stubborn. Been lying to me ever since he said he goes to the forest so much just to fetch firewood." Nyx was grim and disappointed.

"Shall we get started?"

"Yes."

The book was opened up to a dusty image of the Fountain of Venus. "This is what we have to focus on," Nyx said.

Emma looked at Regina. "Is it–"

"It is."

"The Fountain is everywhere in this book," Nyx sustained. "It's full of the land's myths and old spells–"

"Spells?" Emma scoffed. "We're mapping out a route, not teleporting."

"Emma…" Regina lapsed. "Be patient, please."

Nyx coughed. "The Fountain can act as a gateway to other places, if these legends are to be believed as true. One of which may be wherever you two came from. If the spell written here is rightful, the gate might grant you access to these places."

"So we're going for weird, metaphysical mystic stuff. Voodoo. Great."

"It's our only option," Regina resolved. "Don't be so close-minded."

Emma was disorientated. "I didn't know we were in some medieval religious cult, Regina."

Nyx looked away and then back to the centre again. "Emma, this is ancient alchemy at its finest. It isn't magic, it only states that some things have spiritual and elemental properties, that's all. It's clearly all subject to scepticism."

The gaze on the blonde's face held firm as she scanned the open page on the table–

_The elixir of uncharted sea will rain_

_The blood of the nightflower _

_In its aqueous wake_

_Where the salt of the earth_

_Will harpoon the grain_

_Of life lived in endless ache_

_When water change and evening storm_

_And mountain water evening meld_

_Will water air and air transform_

_The Lethe of love thus far upheld_

–"I don't get it."

"It's an incantation," said Nyx. "But it also involves ingredients, by the looks of things."

"Do you understand this?" Emma questioned Regina, bewildered at her silence.

_Of course_ she did, but it wasn't as simple as just understanding it. "There are many people who practice these kinds of things," was all she could respond with.

"Maybe in Storybrooke. But in the real world it's considered nuts. Just give me a minute."

Emma stood up and trudged outside to the garden, only to sit on the spiky grass in shock.

"What is going on? This is not real life," she wauled, sounding like a child captured in a nightmare. _Of course it's not real life_, she ruminated. _This whole thing…is unfathomable. _

She sat there, rimy for a moment, realising that she wasn't the expert she previously thought she was at navigating unknown territory. Feeling inferior to everyone and everything around her again, the truth suddenly came to light: that this place was simply far too strange to be of any branch of reality. So, she took the pleasure of deciding the entire ordeal was a dream after all, and that she may as well go along with whatever plan this illusion was concocting all through the night, until morning when she would rise from bed and begin another dreary day in the city. And at that instant, she knew she would stop whining about the possibility of this 'dreaming', and easily choose the premise, that she was.

* * *

><p>"I'm ready. Let's do this."<p>

Emma crashed a fist onto the surface of the table and amalgamated with the group once again. Nyx and Regina made foggy eyes at each other.

"I'm serious!" she professed. "What are we waiting for?"

Regina focused her watch on this newfound confidence, which became rather mystifying to see.

"The ingredients," Nyx whistled. "My son will know where to find them. He knows the agricultural land far better than I do. But…"

"But?" Emma inquired.

"He's mad at you," Regina cut in.

Nyx exhaled slowly and groaned. "This always happens. Where's my pipe?"

"I'm quite alright to go out to the farm and get him. Hopefully, with enough convincing, he'll come back." Regina wanted this whole thing underway as soon as possible.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, dear. I'll do it."

"Thank you," Nyx expressed.

With a determined stride, Regina Mills walked to the door. Just as she turned the knob and felt the morning air gush over her face, she heard the sound of scampering feet behind her. Emma was quickly rushing over.

"What is it?" Regina asked.

"Nothing. I'm coming with you." She pushed past her, plodding outside onto the plantation.

"I don't need you to."

"Well, I'd like to come." She said it under her breath yet persistently, while she tapped her foot on the ground, waiting for her counterpart.

"Is that so?" Regina hummed.

"If you'll have me."

She shut the door behind her. "Alright, even though we've spent every conscious moment together since we got here."

"And unconscious."

They roamed down the hillside of the plantation, through green rows of crops and beds of vegetation. Lucifer came into view a little way forth, patching up some grass down by a basin in between two whalebacks. They walked closely in his direction.

"Are you sure you're completely set with the plan?"

Emma breathed timidly. "Of course."

Regina wasn't convinced. "You've been sounding rather sarcastic."

"Can you just trust that I'm okay with this? I'm looking forward to getting home."

The other woman backed off. Paced a few steps behind. "That's fine with me."

A quiet ambience trickled over them. The weather was soft and the sky was blurring gracefully in pigments of yellow and pink.

"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?" Emma asked.

Regina didn't hesitate to say she would tell Henry that she loves him before anything.

Emma smiled, but her heart became sore. She didn't know what it was like to miss family members – not if they never existed in her life.

"That's all that matters, right?"

"Yes," Regina nodded.

"And is that what you'll tell Lucifer? That his mother loves him so he should quit it with the distance?"

She dipped her head. "Perhaps."

"Hmm…" Emma droned. "I'm sure if Henry snuck out to see a girl you'd react in the same way."

Regina stopped walking and gently tugged at her arm, forcing her to turn around. "He's too young for that."

"You never know," she intoned.

They kept on going, the young man coming into plain sight only a small distance away.

"What makes you say that?"

"Say what?"

"That I'd…freak out like that."

Emma looked at her with wide eyes like green planets. "Seems like it."

"Well, I wouldn't."

"Regina," she deadpanned. "Seriously. I have this – kind of – superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying. And you, are most definitely, lying."

Emma looked smug, and Regina could only laugh. "Is that so?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'm strict but it's for his own good."

They arrived at the edge of the water basin where Lucifer was sprawled across the ground with a foul guise.

"I knew it," Emma vocalised.

"What are you two doing here?" Lucifer snarled.

Regina put her hands on her hips. "We need your help. You have to come back to the house."

"Lady, if I wanted to be back at the house I would be."

"Please, we just want you to have a look at something for us," Emma jumped in.

"I'd rather not."

He was being stubborn and cross again, with a quiet rage.

"You must," Regina demanded. "We're not leaving until you join us."

"So this is Emma Swan and Regina Mills…to the rescue?"

Emma rolled her eyes and looked upwards. Clouds like milky paint in the sky.

"Alright, you got me." Lucifer stood up and held out his arms in front of him as if he were about to be handcuffed.

The women thanked him and they began to make their way back to the house.

"I always say," Lucifer proclaimed, lumbering through the farm. "Life is just a battle between doing good and doing evil. And you've got to choose your battles."

* * *

><p>"The easiest, most obvious thing noticeable here is the nightflower, which is a type of moonflower that only blooms sporadically, just before the sun cloaks the Valley in the early hours of the morning. It's white and chalky, with rounded petals – I've seen one before – once when I was hiking. They're only perceptible to pick at that time because it's the only period of the day its petals open, and also, its material can be made into a kind of pulp that stains everything with a creamy colour."<p>

Nyx smiled at her son, who was still slightly ignoring her, his knowledge never failing to miss the details.

"As for the rest, I'll have to think about it for a while."

Regina seemed concerned. "How long will it take to decipher?"

"Hopefully not long at all."

"At least we can find this flower, or whatever it is, in the morning tomorrow," Emma cut in.

"Indeed we can," Nyx confirmed, closing the book. "Indeed we can."


End file.
